


Voyage to the Moon

by Antecanis



Category: Assassin's Creed - All Media Types
Genre: Alternate Universe - Historical, Father/Son Incest, M/M, Slow Burn
Language: English
Status: In-Progress
Published: 2019-06-30
Updated: 2020-06-04
Packaged: 2020-06-05 10:48:23
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 11
Words: 36,544
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/19419541
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Antecanis/pseuds/Antecanis
Summary: 1776 - far away from the chaotic upheaval on the East Coast, Ratonhnhaké:ton has grown up in the Western tundra where his mother fled to many years ago. He is a lone hunter, plagued by the fate of his village, and the drastic change he witnesses as missionaries and hunters move North. But a mysterious Englishman asking too many questions about the past brings more trouble...





	1. Tuunraq

**Author's Note:**

  * For [Sleepy_fan](https://archiveofourown.org/users/Sleepy_fan/gifts).



> Happy Birthday, @sleepy_fan!!
> 
> This has been lying on my (digital) desk for a while, and I've decided to revive this old project for your birthday.
> 
> As I'm very busy, this might take some time to finish. But as with all my stories, I won't leave it before I'm done. Yup'ik lifeways are more of my specialism and I'm delighted to bring these two areas together! I hope you enjoy this historical AU. Tags will be updated as I go along.

The times of upheaval had begun over two hundred years ago, and again and again, villages had been set ablaze and people slaughtered. Legend had it that during a game of darts, one boy had accidentally injured the eye of a friend from another village. The injured boy’s father demanded to be allowed to take out the other boy’s eye to balance the damage done. That was what the parents agreed on. But the enraged father blinded the other boy by taking both of his eyes, and thus the war started. It was also true that resources had become scarce, and the vast plains of the tundra yielded less berries; brought less caribou and less moose for the communities to survive. Less sea mammals came, less salmon flooded the rivers, and the winters were longer. The communities along the coast had to compete for what the land had to offer.

Agalikmiut was a village of 80 people in 1754. The people lived in a large sod-built complex of houses; semi-subterranean in nature – but they would travel frequently; make camp in the tundra when they hunted or picked berries further upriver. Their tents and houses were dug into the tundra – not only to be able to cover them in sod cut from the tundra more easily, but also to hide them from view a little more. The times of war had made such villages more compact; more hidden in the landscape – mere hillocks in the wetlands of the subarctic, tree-less tundra.

Of course, the inhabitants were suspicious when they found a strange person on the beach in spring. Some of the women had gathered berries close to the shore, and had spotted a creature on the beach. Men, hoping for a stranded sea creature or a useful piece of driftwood, had set out to investigate. However, what they found was apparently neither, much to their disappointment. The person they found bewildered them. It seemed like a man; but he was very different than the brothers they knew. He had dark hair like them, but not _as_ dark. He had two eyes, a nose and a mouth, but the colour of his skin was unlike their own. He had limbs like they did, but his clothing was different. He wore a long knife, but it was not made from slate. It was harder than stone or ivory but at the same time, shiny and sharp. He carried with him many strange objects.

Some of the men said that he was a spirit. Everyone knew that the seals and the walruses looked different in their homes under water; they took off their furs and lived like people. Perhaps, some of them said, this was a walrus or a seal, drowned without their fur. The men debated what to do about this person. The person was not dead, but he was also not awake. Some of the Agalikmiut said that they should kill him as it would be rude not to accept the spirit offering himself to the village. “But what are we to do with him, then?”, the others argued. There was no use in killing him – he had no fur, bone or flesh they desired. If the spirit had wanted to offer himself to the village, he would have done so in a more useful form. _Issuriq,_ they called him at first, like the spotted seals they hunted.

After their argument went nowhere, they brought him back to the village, where a shaman looked at him and said, “It’s not the spirit of a seal. It’s a spirit from the moon. I have seen people like him when I travelled there; the _tuunraq_ have skin white like the moon.” Everyone knew that the _tuunraq_ could help to make animals plentiful again, so it was accepted that the spirit was nurtured back to health. The man was taken to the _qasgi,_ the men’s house, where a bed of grass and fur was made for him. He was given water and seal oil, as he didn’t swallow anything firmer.

The women didn’t dare to go near him except for one. She had come from a different place as well and had found a new home with the Agalikmiut a few years ago. She had travelled a long way from the southeast, and she had seen men like this before at the many fur trading posts she had passed. Men like him had caused her people to flee the lands they had lived on. She didn’t trust these white men, but instead of telling the others, she took care of him to see what he had to say. She wondered if he had news from the place she had fled from. Her name was Kaniehtí:io, but people called her Ziio.

When the man, who people called _Tuunraq,_ finally awoke, Ziio was the only one who understood his strange language well enough to translate. Some people started to say that Ziio must be a shaman, too, having travelled to the moon and understanding the language of the _tuunraq._ Unfortunately, he had no news from her people as he had never been to the coast she spoke about – he had heard of it, but did not know of the people being driven from the lands there. He came from England – he had been with an expedition going North; looking for a temple of sorts, or so he said. He said his name was Haytham Kenway, and he had no intention to stay. His ship had been trapped in the ice, and a small crew had set out to find help many months ago; and he was the only one to survive.

Tuunraq stayed for a year. Perhaps coincidentally, the berry harvest was better in the year he appeared, and more caribous and moose came to the tundra in fall. The villagers didn’t want Tuunraq to leave. Ziio, too, had grown fond of Tuunraq, and she didn’t want him to leave either. Where would he go?, people asked. How could he return to the moon? The settlements in their surroundings were not friendly, and on his own, he might not reach the outposts down south, Ziio worried.

But Tuunraq was unwavering, and in the spring of the following year, he left the Agalikmiut. He had built himself a kayak with the help of the people, and he took with him hunting gear, a gutskin jacket, amulets, and food. People had gathered for a last meal in the _qasgi_ the night before he planned to leave, and they had a dance in his honours. They had freely given him supplies to take with him, and a beautifully carved harpoon. He had thanked them in their language – by now understanding most of it and speaking some. _Quyana_ , he had said. Thank you.

Ziio didn’t say goodbye. She did not like goodbyes, and this one specifically bothered her. But after Tuunraq had left, she discovered that he had left her something unexpected. That year, Ratonhnhaké:ton was born. That was the Mohawk name Ziio gave to her son in honour of her ancestry. The Yup’ik of Agalikmiut called the boy _Qimugtauyagaq,_ which meant ‘puppy’. He was a bright, curious boy, hearing stories of his father in the moon watching over him as he learned the ways of the Agalikmiut.

But in 1760, life for the Agalikmiut ended forever. The tundra grew over the burnt remains of the village, and the moon was mute and pale as it witnessed the slaughter slipping from memory.

* * *

**1776**

Ratonhnhaké:ton, or _Connor,_ as he called himself these days when dealing with the Russians or Englishmen, wrinkled his nose. “Why is that man asking about the Agalikmiut?”, he muttered with suspicion in his voice. He hadn't heard that name in a long time, and he would be lying if it didn't bring back old memories and a distant pain.

The Russian shrugged as he looked over the furs the young man had brought to trade. “Hell if I know.”, he said, just to cross himself quickly afterwards. “I meant – I didn’t ask. He didn’t look like he liked questions as much as he would have liked _answers.”,_ the trader added with another shrug; gathering the ammunition Connor had asked for, along with a new, shiny knife.

“How does he even know about it?”, Ratonhnhaké:ton asked under his breath; more asking himself than the trader. He was on a friendly basis with this particular Russian trader – he had helped the older man against some violent sea otter hunters, and ever since then, Connor knew that he could expect a fair trade at this particular outpost. He wasn’t sure if the Russian knew that he wasn’t truly one of the ‘Eskimos’ as the white men called them – but he had told him that he had come from the western coast and it seemed as if the trader had remembered that when an Englishman had started to ask questions in one of the larger trading settlements a bit further south.

“I told him I knew this hunter from the west coast, who might know more about A-“ The trader shrugged a little helplessly as he felt Connor’s piercing glance. “He said he’ll come here, but I don’t know when or how.”

“I won’t be here when he does – I’ll be going on moose hunt soon and will make my fall camp up the river.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton replied with irritation; packing up the trade goods he had acquired in exchange for the pelts he had gathered over the past couple of weeks. The Russians and their missionaries were moving further North, and Ratonhnhaké:ton generally tried to stay away from the larger settlements and trading posts. He had spent some winters in villages where people had built churches for their new Moravian God. He did not like it there. People were taught not to dance anymore in the long winter nights; not to carve the ‘demon faces’ in their masks and hunting gear. The new houses were unpractical and cold; one needed so much wood to heat them, while the old sod houses had been perfectly warm even without a large fire. People carried rifles now, and everyone had a metal knife. Ratonhnhaké:ton well remembered how he had been taught to hunt with a harpoon, and he still did when he was out on the ocean. Because shooting a seal might result in it sinking, whereas his harpoon would firmly hold the sea creature where he could collect it.

He hid the ammunition he had acquired in the bow of his kayak and fastened his new knife to his belt. “Tell him to go back down South – there is nothing left of the Agalikmiut but spirits in the tundra. Whatever answers he came looking for, they are gone and best left undisturbed. If he has any respect, he will turn away.” Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn’t help the bitterness in his voice. He did not say more, but left the outpost shortly after.

His current camp was not far from the outpost, but he was now even more determined to move it upriver for the annual moose hunt soon. Men did not usually camp by themselves, but Ratonhnhaké:ton had no kin. After Agalikmiut, he had been raised in a village further inland, but he had not felt at home there, especially not as missionaries had arrived and turned his world upside down.

That night, he slept next to his tent; curled up in his fur parka and staring up into the starry sky. The bright footprints of Raven were twinkling in the dark, but Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at the moon. He wished he could have become a shaman; able to travel up there. Maybe he could have met with his father and found a home. There were not many shamans around, and none of them had brought messenges from his father. It was nights such as this, when he missed his mother and her low voice telling him stories of the _tuunraq_ in the moon, and how the animals’ souls had escaped from there. For a time, he had believed himself to be Yup’ik, despite knowing that neither his mother nor his father had always been one of them. It was about the way you lived, and he had lived like a Yup’ik. But now… he felt more like a wolf, hunting in the tundra by himself and howling up to the moon in starry nights; a wishful, rough song that could perhaps travel up there, where he couldn’t go. He wondered if his father had cried when he had seen his mother slaughtered. That night in 1760, Qimugtauyagaq had hid in the tundra; staring up to the sky to catch a glimpse of the moon, but it was not there. There had only been darkness.


	2. Qimugtet Usvituut

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The chapter title means "Dogs are Wise", referring to Ratonhnhaké:ton's Yup'ik name Qimugtauyagaq ("puppy").

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s way upriver took four days. He had packed up his camp near the trading outpost, and filled his kayak with everything he would need. He was in no hurry to reach his annual camping ground on the gentle slope of the mountain. He was early, and he knew that he should keep his mind aware of his surroundings as he travelled. Sometimes, he would stop and offer some food to spirits. There were those persons, who had been turned to stone – he would leave them some food and tundra tea so they would allow him safe passage further along the river. There was a hill where he knew the little people lived near – he had not seen them himself, but he had talked to others who had. He left some food there, too. It was important to know the landscape as one travelled on the river. One day, he stopped and made camp to fish and pick berries.

The tundra was peaceful as he filled his grass basket with the brightly orange berries that were overripe and lush. He had taken off his parka and enjoyed the gentle breeze rustling through the stiff tundra grass. Elders said that if the tundra was getting a thick grass parka, it meant that a cold winter would be coming. Ratonhnhaké:ton did not yet know where to spend this winter. He had no kin to return to. He knew many families in nearby villages, but he yearned to travel further North. This area here was slowly starting to change, but he knew that up North, there were many villages still… the way he had grown up with. He had heard rumours that the Russians were trying to settle further down south, but he did not know whether or not that was true. He knew, however, that the white men were travelling further into Yup'ik lands. Some for trade, some to spread their religion, and others for fame and... _power._ For a moment, Ratonhnhaké:ton sat down; enjoying the warmth of the early fall sun, and the taste of the tart berries melting on his tongue. The awareness of someone stirring up memories of the Agalikmiut was ceasing, and the young man was glad for it. He needed to properly prepare for the hunt, and the animals would avoid him if his mind was filled with death and darkness.

That night, Ratonhnhaké:ton camped with other hunters. There were many seasonal camps at this time of year – some berry picking camps, and a handful of larger fall hunting camps. He had spotted their camp as he had travelled further upriver, and as he was in need of some rest, he had pulled his kayak on land and introduced himself to the people at the camp. He gifted them some of the berries he had gathered, and the eldest hunter’s wife made _akutaq_ from the berries and fish oil for them to share. He traded his old knife for some pieces of antler, a pair of mittens and a small wooden bowl carved from a single piece of driftwood by the hunter’s wife herself.

The sun barely set at this time of year, though the nights would become longer again soon. There were only a few hours of darkness, and Ratonhnhaké:ton sat by the fire after the other hunters had retreated to sleep; watching the North Star dip down over the tundra as if to find some berries itself. The colours of the sky were familiar and yet strange; making Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart swell with some form of bittersweet emotion. A feeling of being home, and a feeling of being very far away from home. He watched as the moon rose, and only settled to sleep then.

He woke a little while later. Darkness had fallen, and clouds were scattered over the sky; hiding much of the stars and the moon. Someone was approaching him, and his light sleep had been disturbed by it. He sat up; noticing that it was one of the hunter’s daughters who sat next to him. She was roughly his age, and very beautiful. She had tattoos on her face, like many women did. Wordlessly, she placed a hand on his forearm. Shifting away, Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head. He did not like other people’s touches. Without a word exchanged, the young woman averted her gaze, retreating back to her own sleeping place.

Ratonhnhaké:ton could have become part of someone’s kin. He had relations with other hunters and other families; just because he was not related to them by blood did not mean that he could not be their kin or become their kin through marriage. But he had not felt connected to these people he had met. Sometimes, he wondered if there was something different about him; if his spirit yearned for a sort of transformation that he could not go through when he became entangled in human kinship. Maybe, he had thought, he was meant to seek a different kinship. He had sought the company of nonhuman persons; living like predators in the tundra, and regarding them as his kin. The wolves seemed to share his connection to the moon and shared his hunt for moose and caribou, and the bears seemed to live a life like him, too – hunting fish and eating berries, being by himself, and remaining numb during winter. But he knew that it was dangerous to seek such kinship and he might never be able to return to people. Shamans were the only ones who could change their perspective skilfully, whereas he might turn into a bear or a wolf and forget his human life forever.

He reached his annual hunting camp on the evening of the fourth day, and set it up as he always did. It was a humble camp in comparison to others, who hunted as a group. He only had his tent and his kayak turned upside down to create a dry space for storage. He had put together a drying rack from some pieces of driftwood, using it for the fish he had caught on the previous day and trying out his new knife to cut the fish before he put it up on the rack to dry in the early fall sun.

Ten days went by. The days were still long, and Ratonhnhaké:ton spent many hours out in the tundra, hunting for moose. He wanted to kill two; he did not need more, and this already included meat that he could share with whichever community he decided to spend his winter with. He spent the evenings sitting by the fire and carving the antler he had traded. He let it soak in water during the day, and by the evening, it was easy to carve. He made some harpoon points he could gift during winter, and a little pendant for himself. It was a round, flat little face. It was a _tuunraq,_ like he had seen them on shamans’ masks and dance fans. He sewed it on his parka to carry it with him. Maybe it could speak on his behalf to his father, or help to carry his voice to his kin up there.

He had an unusual dream in the eleventh night.

 _He was running through the tundra with his kin, they were on a hunt. The moon was high and full, as if it would be spilling out animals anytime now; a moon they used to call_ iralvagtuq. _It was bright and guided them as they ran. But as they drew closer to the mountains, a bear appeared. He was a large, silver-haired bear unlike any Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen before. The bear was on a hunt, too, and he did not like Ratonhnhaké:ton’s pack entering his hunting grounds. The bear had set traps, and Ratonhnhaké:ton got caught in one as the pack tried to flee. When he blinked, he saw that his kin were wolves. When he blinked again, he saw that he was a wolf, too. The bear approached him and scolded him when Ratonhnhaké:ton snapped at him in distress. The bear spoke to him, but Ratonhnhaké:ton did not understand him. He thought the bear would kill him with his powerful, clawed paws. As the bear towered over him, he thought that this silver fur, illuminated by the moonshine, looked beautiful like the moon itself. The bear did not strike him, but placed a harness on him, and made Ratonhnhaké:ton pull his sled to his cave in the mountains. From the inside, the cave resembled a regular sod house with pots and benches, grass mats and seal oil lamps. There, the bear took off his fur and thus was a human in his own home. He took the harness off, and gave Ratonhnhaké:ton a wooden bowl with_ muktuk _to eat, as if he was a high guest. Hungry from the way up the mountain, the wolf ate. “They say dogs are wise. I will tame you.”, the man said, and after Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen his true form, entered his house and eaten his food, he could understand the other’s words clearly. He tried to glance up at the other's face, but he could not recognize it in the dim light of the house.  
_

Ratonhnhaké:ton woke up with a start. He could sense someone’s presence, and as he silently got up and readied his knife in case he would have to defend his camp, he briefly thought the bear from his dream had come to claim him because he saw a hint of silver hair in the moonlight.

“Easy.”, a low voice sounded, and a man stepped closer to reveal himself. He had raised his hands as a sign of being unarmed, and Ratonhnhaké:ton saw that it was a white man. He had never seen them this far out in the tundra and up the mountain, and he immediately realized that this was the person who had been looking for information about the Agalikmiut. With a hint of curiosity, he regarded the other as he lowered the knife. The man was older than him, but it was hard to say how much older. His hair was silver, but his movements were smooth and attentive. There was a caution and agility to him that spoke of a younger man, but his bright eyes were knowing and piercing in a way that he had only seen in experienced hunters or, indeed, shamans. There was something fascinating about him, whether Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted to admit it or not. In the early light of the day, the other seemed like a continuation of Ratonhnhaké:ton's dream.

“What do you want?”, the younger man asked without politeness; fastening his knife to his belt again. If this had been another hunter, he would have invited him to stay, eat and rest, but he owed this man no respect. He had no idea how this man had even found him – there were many hunting camps along the river; more with every day. It was barely daybreak, too, and travelling at night in this area was dangerous for many reasons.

The man seemed unfazed by Ratonhnhaké:ton’s rudeness and drew closer. “I believe you are the hunter I am looking for.”, the man said.

“I am not.”, the younger hunter replied; sitting down by the smouldering fire and glancing up at the other. His voice was calm but gruff. He stared up at the stranger with clear aversion; not hiding the fact that he did not wish to converse with the other.

To Ratonhnhaké:ton’s irritation, the stranger just smiled and sat down at the fire with him. “Is that so? Well, I believe otherwise.”, he commented nonchalantly.

“There are many hunting camps around here. Many hunters.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton remarked; his eyes narrowed as he stared at the other.

The stranger cocked his head and looked at him musingly. “Indeed. And yet, you are the only one camping by himself. I have not stated what information I seek, and yet, you know precisely what I came here for. I was told you do not wish to speak of what I came to hear. Which is why I have changed my mind about what I want from you.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton felt like the stranger’s bright eyes saw right through him. He clenched his jaw; briefly averting his gaze before he returned to eye the stranger with mistrust. “You claim to know many things, stranger. Why, then, do you assume I will speak to you regardless of my wishes? What is it you came to do, then? If you believe I am easy to sway with threats because I am by myself, you are mistaken.”

The stranger seemed almost amused by his hostile words. He shook his head. “I have not come for violence. I was told you are a capable fighter by someone you have helped. I got the impression that you are a man of righteousness and courage.” When Ratonhnhaké:ton was about to interrupt him, the man raised his hand to let him speak his piece. The younger man, almost surprised by himself, complied, and the stranger continued. “I do not seek flattery with my words. I am explaining my reasoning as to why I have decided against an attempt to force the story I want to hear from your lips. A confrontation should be sought when necessary, and I have come to the conclusion that this is not the case for our meeting today. You may correct me if I am wrong.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at him but did not utter a word. He had rarely met someone with such a silver tongue – and such striking eyes. He had a feeling that the other was very capable of violence. The way he moved and spoke, revealed a hint of danger, like a resting bear that could kill you when provoked. But Ratonhnhaké:ton also had the impression that the other was not mincing his words, and spoke the truth of violence not being what he was after – at least not in their meeting today.

The stranger looked pleased when the young man did not correct him, and continued to produce a small bundle wrapped in silver seal skin from his dark blue coat. His clothing was very different from Yup’ik tradition and even from what the Russians were wearing, but here and there, Ratonhnhaké:ton could see elements that had been augmented and changed to be more suitable for this environment. “Very well. I reckon we have arrived at a point where you are willing to listen to my request.”, the stranger said somewhat pleased.

With some reluctance, Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at the small bundle, unsure if it could contain anything he wanted so much that he was willing to bring back the trauma he had gone through sixteen years ago. “What is it that you want, stranger?”, he asked, glancing back up and meeting the other’s piercing gaze. “You must have heard stories from others, or you would not know of that haunted place at all. Explain to me why you are interested in this story in the first place.” He could not imagine why a white man would want to hear about the Agalikmiut. And why from him. The other could not possibly know that he had been there; that once, he had been one of the Agalikmiut.

The other looked at him with scrutiny, and then placed the bundle between them; leaning in a little, as if to make sure he had all of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s attention. “As I said, I have changed my mind. I do not just want your story, Connor. I want you to work with me.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s head was swimming with the intensity of the other’s bright eyes. It was the colour of the ocean on a rainy day; it almost made him taste the ocean breeze in the air. He did not even notice the other referring to him by the name he used around the traders. “Why?”, he managed out; trying to look away but utterly caught by the other’s alluring gaze.

The stranger slid the bundle over to him but kept his hand on it to keep Ratonhnhaké:ton from grasping it just yet. “Your friend, the Russian trader I talked to, he said you helped him when some hunters tried to rob him. These hunters are part of a larger group of fur traders who are trying to expand further North. They have forced coastal villages to work for them and gather sea otter furs for them.” The other paused for a moment to let Ratonhnhaké:ton come to his own conclusions as to what that had to do with Agalikmiut. “I heard you can fight. But now that I have met you out here, I believe it. And I believe that there is nothing keeping you here. This is something you can do for your people.” He finally released his hand from the bundle, and as he shifted away, he reached out to brush his fingers over Ratonhnhaké:ton's hand resting in his lap; as if to reassure himself that the other was truly there. It was an odd little touch; and the jolt that it sent through Ratonhnhaké:ton was unlike the one he usually felt when people touched him. It seemed as if this touch had connected them, but before Ratonhnhaké:ton had a chance to reply or react, the other got up. “I will return to the large outpost South of the mouth of the River. I believe you call it after the mountains, _Ingrit.”_ The Yup’ik name slipped fluently from his silver tongue, and Ratonhnhaké:ton was more confused than ever. “I will wait there for you until the ice freezes. Then I will travel along the coast; northwards. Come and find me if you are ready to tell me your story and join me to keep it from happening again.” He turned away to leave.

“Wait.”

The stranger turned around again, a mild expression adorning his features. The early sun illuminated his pale skin, and it reminded Ratonhnhaké:ton of the warm moonlight in some nights.

“Your… your name.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton brought out; dark eyes glancing up at the stranger with a somewhat confused and thoughtful expression.

“Haytham Kenway.”, the stranger said with a nod before he disappeared in the tundra, making his way towards the river.

Ratonhnhaké:ton stared after him; his skin tingling where the other had touched him. Then his gaze dropped down to the bundle the other had left.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you all for reading! I hope you are enjoying it so far. I appreciate every single kudos and comment so much, so thanks for taking the time to leave feedback! <3


	3. Canegteggun Anangnaqsaraq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title translates to a "way of saving oneself with grass".
> 
> Thanks for staying with me and reading this far! I hope you enjoy this new chapter.

For three days, Ratonhnhaké:ton ignored the bundle wrapped in the silver seal skin. It had remained near the fire, and in the evenings after a long day out by himself, the young man had stared at it; for some reason expecting it to have vanished during the day, like a strange gift from the _ircenrraat,_ the nonhuman persons who lived out in the tundra. He knew that once he opened it, he would have accepted it, whether or not Haytham Kenway was there to witness it. He doubted that the content of the bundle would somehow change his decision not to meet the other, and yet, he hesitated to find out what it contained.

Ratonhnhaké:ton kept himself busy to forget about the odd encounter he had had with the stranger. And yet, his dreams were strangely haunted by a man, or a bear, with bright, ocean-grey eyes and a smooth voice saying his name as if he had some power over him through that. Ratonhnhaké:ton tended not to sleep much when he was out hunting – the elders had taught him not to be lazy in this productive time of the year. One had to stay focused on the hunt, and be thankful for the animals one caught. The days were getting shorter, and the hours of daylight had to be spent wisely. He got up before sunrise and prepared for the hunt. There were berries to gather, too, and birds, fish and fox to trap. He filled his drying racks quickly these days. The animals liked him, the elders said, and gave themselves to him willingly as they knew he would treat them well. After every kill, he said Quayana, thanks, to the animal giving themselves to him and promising their proper treatment. He knew that all his thoughts should be focused on the hunt, as the elders taught him, but… every now and then, he glanced up at the moon, but all he saw was the silver sliver of Haytham’s hair amidst the dark blue of his coat; lined with sparkling gold across the sky.

On the evening of the third day after Haytham had come to speak to him, Ratonhnhaké:ton gave in to the bit of curiosity that he had felt about the bundle the other had left. It was getting dark, and only the warm embers of the fire illuminated the bundle as he pulled it closer. It was heavier than he would have thought – it was the size of a salmon, though perhaps a bit thicker. The seal skin was beautiful in itself – smooth and shiny. It would make for a nice piece to be sewn for details on mittens or a parka, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought as he unfolded it slowly. There was a piece of parchment on top of something metallic-looking, and Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated before he put away the parchment to look at the odd metal object. It almost looked like a sort of knife, but not exactly. There was a strange mechanism attached to it, as well as a sturdy leather bracer. Ratonhnhaké:ton picked up the weapon – because it was doubtlessly that, though he wasn’t entirely sure how one would use it if the knife was attached to one’s arm – and carefully inspected the odd mechanism attached to the thin blade. It didn’t immediately made sense to him, though he wondered if the blade could somehow extend forwards? For a brief moment, he wondered how that would help during a hunt, until he recalled the other’s words. A shiver ran through him when he realized that this wasn’t meant for animals. Reaching for the parchment in hopes that it might provide answers, he wondered in what language it would be written – he could read a bit Russian, but he wasn’t fluent in English as the letters differed significantly and the only teachers who had been around here were Russian missionaries. Ratonhnhaké:ton hadn’t enjoyed learning from them, but it had been a necessity to make better deals with the Russian traders. There were very few English traders around here, but two years ago, he had spent a winter down south at a major trading post where some white men from a place called Scotland had taught him English. Though Ratonhnhaké:ton was aware that the accent of Haytham Kenway was quite different than how the Scottish hunters had spoken.

The parchment contained only few words, and it was a surprising mixture of languages. There were even words that Ratonhnhaké:ton identified as Yup’ik, though their spelling was almost unrecognizable. But it wasn’t a text; it was something he had seen before down South. Missionaries and traders had show and explained similar pictures – it was a map.

* * *

**2 months later**

The first snow had fallen almost a month ago, and winter had begun. It was a busy time of preparing for long weeks without many mammals to hunt, no berries to gather, and few birds to catch. However, ice fishing continued, and many people used the frozen sea ice to travel along the coast. It was a time of storytelling, trade and community. People made last gifts and preparations before resources would get scarce right before Spring came.

On this wintry day, Ratonhnhaké:ton reached the outpost down shortly after noon. He had been glad to reach it before the darkness startled to settle in – the sky looked like it would snow again later, and perhaps even violently so. He wondered if Haytham Kenway would still be here – he had said he would leave once the ice allowed for him to do so, and the ice had certainly allowed travel for a week now. Ratonhnhaké:ton had tried to convince himself that he wouldn’t go to meet up with the older man, and he had told himself that for long weeks. He had occasionally stared at the map, and had started to wear the strange bracers with its hidden blade. Eventually, he had started to talk to hunters he knew were travelling further south every now and then; wanting to hear if what Haytham Kenway had told him was true – that there were traders trying to force locals into hunting for sea otter fur. The map Haytham had given to him showed the expanding Russian presence South of islands noted as _Алеутские острова_ , of which Ratonhnhaké:ton had not heard before – but he had never ventured that far South. The map depicted the expansion accurately as far as Ratonhnhaké:ton could tell, and change seemed to be slow. Why the other seemed to think that this had anything to do with the Agalikmiut, he wasn’t sure.

And while the hunters he spoke with confirmed that there were rumours of violent encounters further down South, it wasn’t what had ultimately led him to travel to the outpost to meet Haytham Kenway. It had been a strange mixture of curiosity and… _mesmerisation._ He couldn’t forget those ocean-grey eyes, and the way his skin had tingled where the other had touched him. He had never liked anyone’s touch, but for some strange reason, this had left him yearning. Which was, of course, a foolish thing to think or say, and Ratonhnhaké:ton was determined never to mention it to anyone. He had heard the elders tell stories about men who had become infatuated with women; unable to focus on the hunt anymore and in need of healing. He wondered if a man could have the same infatuation with another man – he remembered an instance during the winter he had spent at the large trading outpost. There were some Russian men who had married local women, and many young traders were the children of these unions. But one night, Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen a young Yup’ik man with one of the traders during a sleepless stroll through the outer quarters of the settlement. At the time he had been rather confused at what they were doing; closely entwined in a hidden part of the space between houses. Only much later had he realized that they had been intimate like men and women were in the ways that the elders had educated them about – and warned them to wait until a marriage had been arranged. Ratonhnhaké:ton had been set up to marry years ago after his first successful hunting season, but he had fled from the commitment.

When he arrived at the outpost, he fed his sled dogs and then sought out someone who might be able to tell him whether or not Haytham Kenway had ever been here, or maybe still was. The outpost was the biggest of its kind in this area, and Ratonhnhaké:ton hadn’t been here in years. It had changed and grown with some locals having set up winter camp not far from it; doubtlessly hoping for some good trade; mainly interested in tobacco and beads. There were many people, not just whites, Yup’ik, and their children, but some of the Natives further down south and east, or so Ratonhnhaké:ton guessed. Sometimes he wondered if any of them knew the lands from which his mother had once upon a time fled. But he never dared to ask. He knew he looked different, but somehow most people still assumed he was from here, with his thick fur parka and his fluent Yup’ik. As he knew, he could be Yup’ik as long as he lived like one and followed the elders’ teachings. But there was an undeniable pull to find out where else he could be himself… Perhaps more so than around here.

The Yup’ik hunter he spoke to remembered the Englishman but shook his head when Ratonhnhaké:ton asked if he was still around. “He left this morning.”, the hunter said with a bit of a mischievous glance.

Ratonhnhaké:ton scowled. “He left _today?_ Tell me it doesn’t look like it will storm tonight; tell me you don’t remember what they say: We cannot be stingy with our knowledge, we need to share it, even with the white men.”, he snapped; surprisingly irritated that the locals had let the Englishman leave – with snow on the horizon plain to see for anyone who knew how to observe the skies. And every Yup’ik boy would learn from their elders to predict the weather in the morning; particularly when it came to travelling. “Did he leave alone?”

The hunter seemed a bit taken aback from Ratonhnhaké:ton’s admonishment, and muttered, “Eh, why do you care? He left with his dog team, but no one accompanied him. He seemed to be waiting for someone here but decided to leave before the weather worsened. He went southwards.”

A short while later, Ratonhnhaké:ton was rushing southwards. The dogs had been unwilling to travel, and Ratonhnhaké:ton could guess that they knew about the impending blizzard. Dogs were wise, after all… He briefly wondered where he had heard that last, and then remembered the bear in his dreams; returning to him some more nights in the past months. The bear’s voice sounded like Haytham’s, and the more the young hunter tried to remember the bear’s human face, the more it looked like Haytham’s. But the first time he had dreamed of the bear, he hadn’t known how Haytham looked like; sounded like. Perhaps, he thought, his father _had_ given him powers only a _tuunraq_ possessed. Perhaps he could have become a shaman and travelled to the moon, after all. He glanced upwards, almost expecting his father to watch over him. But the sky was grey like steel, smooth and calm. It was not a good sign, and Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to spur on the dogs more.

As it was getting darker, the world got a blue tint. The snow covering the land, the ice covering the ocean, and the clouds covering sky all turned into a pale, navy blue that reminded Ratonhnhaké:ton of Haytham’s coat. He wondered what he was even doing out here – rushing after a man he had met once; getting himself in danger to chase after someone who he had met in a dream, perhaps. Maybe the bear _had_ tamed him, and that was why he felt this pull to rush forwards and see if he could find the white man before the blizzard did. He did not know why, if there was no spell on him, he couldn’t escape the other’s call.

Darkness fell, and the wind picked up. The dogs were uneasy and anxious as they headed towards what Ratonhnhaké:ton believed to be the blizzard. He was starting to doubt his judgement when the first snowflakes started to tumble down; swept across the coast and the ice by the wind. Ratonhnhaké:ton was about to turn back and create shelter for himself and the dogs when he believed to see a flicker of light in the distance. He recalled the elders’ warnings; the stories about the _ircenrraat_ out in the tundra; they could fool you and lead you into your demise if you were not careful and disobeyed the elders’ teachings.

Ratonhnhaké:ton called out for his dogs to run further. He knew he was disregarding everything he had learned; everything he would advise others of. It might just be his demise. And for what? A white man he had met once? He couldn’t possibly explain it, but he had to… find him.

As he came closer, the flickering turned into a small fire; almost extinguished by the wind and the snow; inadequately shielded by a small barrier of accumulated snow and snow shoes. Dogs howled as Ratonhnhaké:ton approached, and he could make out the outlines of a sled and a figure huddled by the fire.

“Haytham?”

He jumped from the sled; allowing his dogs the seek cover behind it as he rushed forward to the person at the fire – noticing how snow and frost covered the navy blue fabric, and how the other's broad frame was shaking. The older man turned towards him; his lips blue.

Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated, drawing closer. His fingers brushed over the stiff, frozen fabric. “How long ago did you fall into the water?”, he asked.

If the other was surprised to see him, he did not show it. Haytham shook his head a little, but then replied, “N-not long ago.” His teeth were clattering, and Ratonhnhaké:ton looked around. The blizzard would pick up and extinguish the fire soon – Haytham had lost valuable warmth, and there was little time for precaution. “I was seeking a spot t-to wait out the storm.”, Haytham started to explain, but Ratonhnhaké:ton gestured for him to be quiet. There was a hint of offense visible in the older man’s bright eyes, but he obeyed and stopped speaking.

“Take off your clothes. Rip them if necessary.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton ordered as he turned away; starting to arrange the sleds systematically and calling their dog teams to come closer. He made sure they were all in their harnesses, before he grabbed a shovel from his travel utensils and started to pile up enough snow along the sleds to create a rudimentary shelter from the wind – it wouldn’t be enough once the blizzard truly reached them, but it would be enough to get Haytham warm until then. Ratonhnhaké:ton returned to his sled and went through his things and grabbed a basket with grass. Along with a long walking stick, it was an essential travel item – the elders had taught him that here were ways of saving oneself with grass.

Looking back at the other with the basket of grass in his hands, he was struck by the sight of Haytham having shed his clothes. The older man was shivering in the cold wind, but he wasn’t cowering. His broad shoulders were proud, despite the way his body shook, and he had no shame as he stared at the young hunter. If he had any doubts about Ratonhnhaké:ton’s orders, he wasn’t showing it and endured the icy wind's vicious bite.

Swallowing hard, Ratonhnhaké:ton approached him, feeling surprisingly light-headed. “Stay still.”, he muttered as he started to rub the other with a batch of grass and fur. The other’s skin was damp and cold, and without doubt, he would have frozen to death during the night if Ratonhnhaké:ton hadn’t found him.

He watched as the other skin reddened from the friction, somehow intrigued by the colour. The flickering flames of the fire cast lively, warm shades on the older man’s pale skin, and Ratonhnhaké:ton tried not to stare.

“Travelling alone out here is dangerous.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton muttered in a scolding tone as he circled around the shivering Englishman; ignoring the snowflakes being thrown into his face by the harsh wind. He could feel the warmth of the other’s body as he rubbed him dry with the grass; knowing that he had to hurry.

“You are travelling alone, are you not?”, Haytham snapped back with a hint of irritation; clearly displeased by the younger man’s admonishment.

Ratonhnhaké:ton scoffed as he kneeled down and rubbed the grass along the other’s taut legs; doing his best to ignore the older man’s nakedness – and the many scars he could spot on the other’s body. “I grew up here. I know the land. I know what a blizzard-day looks like. You apparently do not. And neither do you know how to save yourself with grass.” He glanced up; catching the other’s stare – the ocean-grey eyes seemingly dangerous as the fire cast a lively gleam within them. Haytham looked both amused and irritated, and Ratonhnhaké:ton was briefly distracted before he reminded himself of the necessity of being quick. “Put your clothes back on, but stuff grass between them and your body. It will keep you warm. Try to move the clothes at the joints so that you can move even though they are frozen.”, he advised; stepping back and holding the basket of grass out to the older man. He had averted his gaze as he waited for the other to take the offered item; feeling the cold wind getting to him, too. They needed to properly create a snow shelter to survive the night. It certainly wasn’t the case that he had not seen men naked before. The steam baths in the men’s houses across the villages were a popular location in winter time, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had spent many hours among naked, sweating men. For some reason or another, he was… _confused_ by the sight this time, though, and had no explanation for it.

“You are wearing it.”, Haytham’s voice sounded and the younger hunter glanced back at the other. Haytham stepped forward, and as Ratonhnhaké:ton turned his head, he found himself face to face with the other – his heart missing a beat. Haytham’s hand brushed over the back of the younger man’s hand holding the basket – trailing over the other’s arm. The young man wanted to say something, but his mind was blank. He allowed himself to get lost in the other’s bright eyes, for just a moment forgetting about the blizzard approaching them rapidly as he felt his skin tingle where Haytham had touched him.

“The hidden blade.”, Haytham said, a hint of amusement in his voice as he took the basket from the young man and did as the other asked while Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to find his voice again; mutely watching as the older man started to get dressed again; layering grass and clothes over his rosy, scarred skin. Only the howling of the wind and the howling of the dogs awakened him from his odd daze and called upon him to prepare for the violent storm about to bury them in snow.


	4. Aniguyaq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> "Aniguyaq" roughly translates to "snow shelter" - something that elders still teach about as a measure to keep you safe during a blizzard out in the tundra. 
> 
> Apologies for the late update, and thank you for staying with me (or perhaps discovering this story as it goes along)! I hope you enjoy the new chapter, and will stick with me, even if it takes some time to be updated.

Ratonhnhaké:ton knew what to do in a situation like this. While he had experienced surviving a blizzard only once before when he had been a boy, the teachings of the elders had prepared him well. He never travelled without his snow shovel, and he used it now to hollow a space into the snow beneath them, next to the sleds he had positioned to shield them from the icy wind bringing the blizzard closer. The dogs were whining and howling; bundled up together and shivering. They would be fine, as long as he made sure the animals had air to breathe in their snow shelter.

The younger hunter was digging as quickly as he could; creating a shallow area beneath them, where earlier snow had piled up on the frozen tundra. He created a rough wall around them with the snow he dug out – the blizzard would bring more snow, effectively covering them and thus actually helping them stay warm. Haytham appeared next to him a few moments after Ratonhnhaké:ton had started shovelling; having grabbed a plank from his sled which he used as a make-shift shovel to help the younger man create their shelter. The two of them worked in silence as the wind howled around them; bringing more and more snow, which it threw violently into their faces and threatened to take out their only light source - the small fire Haytham had lit after he had apparently fallen through the ice somewhere. Ratonhnhaké:ton brought the dogs into the shallow he had created once he knew it was time to stop shovelling, and then hurriedly grabbed some things from his sled.

He used his large gut-skin parka to create a small tent. It was barely enough space for two people, but that was enough for now. Beneath it, he placed a thick bear fur that would help them to retain warmth. The gut-skin parka, big and usually worn as waterproof gear over a thick winter parka, was set up within the hollow they had dug out, and was held up by the long walking stick he always had with him; driven into the icy snow beneath them. Normally, he used it to test the thickness of ice and secure ground - which would keep one from falling through the ice like Haytham had - now it would help to hold up the parka by its hood and could be moved to assure that air would come into their shelter. He fastened the sides of the thin parka with little spikes that he pressed into the frozen ground before motioning for Haytham to get inside, using the one edge that wasn’t pinned down to the ground yet. The other did what Ratonhnhaké:ton asked him to do without question, much to the younger hunter’s relief. There was no time for explaining or discussing. He covered the dogs with a blanket; wanting to provide some sort of shelter for them, too. They were still wearing their harnesses, which was important as it would keep them from running away, and moving the reigns would loosen the falling snow and create holes for them to breathe. Ratonhnhaké:ton shovelled some snow on the edges of the parka and extinguished the last, pathetic flames of Haytham's fire that was almost suffocated by the snow that had begun to fall more relentlessly. Then he crawled beneath the parka, too, joining Haytham in the small space and fixating the last part of their small tent. He had taken the reigns of the two dog teams inside with him; tying them to the stick close to where it was stuck in the ground.

It was a small space, and in order to avoid being inconvenienced by the stick in the middle of the tent, the two men sat close together, their legs on either side of the stick, but their shoulders touching as they sat on the fur. There was a moment of silence before the storm reached them, and Ratonhnhaké:ton listened to the other’s breath in the darkness. He felt strangely calm despite the dangerous situation. It reminded him of the feeling when he was out in the tundra by himself; staring up at the moon during a starry, clear night. It was a feeling of calmness and companionship. But instead of the moon as his companion... He shook himself mentally.

When the blizzard hit, the parka briefly strained and flapped, but was so quickly buried in drifting and falling snow, that it became very quiet, very quickly. Ratonhnhaké:ton tugged at the reigns of the dog harnesses to make sure the snow piling around their make-shift shelter where the dogs were bundled up together was loose enough to allow them to breathe. He also moved the stick that was upholding the parka above them to create a hole that allowed air to come into their shelter. A bit of snow tumbled down through the small opening. Not that Ratonhnhaké:ton could see it, but he felt a few cool flakes melt on his face turned upwards. He could hear the whistling of the wind, and feel a bit of air with reassured him that they would not suffocate in their shelter. It was cool and dark, and Ratonhnhaké:ton could feel the other’s warm breath on his skin as he moved a bit closer to sit more comfortably. 

“Are you still feeling cold?”, he asked into the darkness. He could feel Haytham’s body close to his’ – a somehow strange sensation. He generally did not like other people’s closeness, but he remembered the other’s touch from their first meeting, and the odd feeling it had left with him. Ratonhnhaké:ton felt how Haytham leaned in a bit closer, as if his reply needed to be spoken in proximity.

“A little.”, the older man said quietly, and Ratonhnhaké:ton could feel Haytham’s breath against his cheek. A soft shudder ran through him, as he wondered why the other was leaning in like this – was he trying to somehow warm himself? However, there just wasn’t a whole lot of space in their shelter, so perhaps it was simply through necessity that Haytham was suddenly so close.

They remained silent for a moment, before Haytham said, “You followed up on what I told you.” His voice was calm and matter-of-factly, as if they weren’t trapped in the middle of a blizzard, but had met, as planned, at the trading fort and were currently casually catching up. Perhaps, he, too, felt this calmness, the younger hunter wondered. 

“Yes.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton replied; unsure whether or not he should ask how the other had known – was it because he was wearing the other’s gift? Thinking of that, he carefully undid the leather bracer and slid the weapon beneath the fur - just to avoid any accidental injury as he was by no means truly adept at using the odd hidden blade just yet.

“Do you know what is happening down in the South, in the lands that my fellow Englishmen and others have seized with violence from the ones living there before?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton was briefly puzzled by the other’s question, and only replied after a moment of silence, “I know _of_ it. I know what information travels with the missionaries, and the fur traders.” He failed to mention that his mother had actually been one of the many who had fled from those conflicts. It was not a piece of information he often volunteered to strangers.

Haytham gave a hum of consideration. “White men will come here, too, many of them. Maybe not Frenchmen or Englishmen, though they may come, too, if there is any money to be found here. The Russians are trading with the Chinese in the East, and the demand for sea otter fur his high. The best hunters are _your_ hunters. You know what is happening; I told you, and you have verified it, and you have come here to join me. We have to stop them from moving further North.” It seemed as if the Englishman had taken Ratonhnhaké:ton’s appearance as proof that the younger hunter was willing to join his fight; having found the older man’s words verified, and the threat identified.

“You say these traders are a threat to us. They force hunters to bring them furs to keep their villages alive. But what is your interest in this?”, the younger man asked after a brief moment of hesitation. Perhaps it wasn’t polite to ask this so bluntly – but the young hunter had no particular reason to be polite. He was strangely intrigued by the Englishman, but he also had his reservations and questioned the other's motives.

“I have my own reasons.”, Haytham replied avoidantly. “For right now all you need to know is that I want to stop them as much as you do. That makes us allies.”

For a moment, they remained silent. There was much to discuss – where exactly they were headed; what they would do once they got there, and why exactly Haytham had found it necessary to equip the younger hunter with a weapon of stealth. But it seemed like that would be a better conversation to have once they had made it through the night; through the blizzard raging around them. It would be a conversation that Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted to have in person - he wanted to watch the other's reactions, and assess how much he truly trusted him. And why, for some odd reason, he seemed so entirely willing to follow the other wherever he went...

The other shifted, and the younger hunter absent-mindedly assumed that Haytham was perhaps uncomfortable sitting in the same position for a longer period of time. Instead, it seemed as if the other moved closer still. Ratonhnhaké:ton almost startled when he felt Haytham’s hand brush along his leg and came to a rest on his thigh. For a brief moment, he opened his mouth to ask what the other was doing, but for some reason, he just stayed silent. It wasn’t… an unpleasant feeling; the weight of the other’s hand on his leg. He could hear the other’s breathing in the darkness; feel his presence next to him. He knew he could easily swat away the other’s hand or tell him to stop whatever it was that he seemed intent on doing. He had, in the past. There had been situations where people had touched him – like this, or differently, and every time, Ratonhnhaké:ton had pulled away; had recoiled from the unwanted physical attention. But this man… there was something about him; something about his touch that the young hunter found… pleasant. Intriguing, perhaps. Lightly, he ran his fingers over the other’s hand – only brushing over the other’s skin, and yet, it was a shy, questioning invitation to touch him more.

It seemed as if Haytham understood what he had meant; the other’s hand moving further a little, then he reached up. Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered when Haytham’s fingers ran over his cheek – he didn’t know why, but the older man’s touch left a thrilling, tingling sensation wherever his fingers went, and he wished he knew why his mind was plunged into such chaos because of it. He had never experienced this before, and there was both curiosity and confusion in him because of it.

This was only the second time they were meeting, and yet… Ratonhnhaké:ton felt an odd sort of familiarity with the other; an ease he had with few people. No; in fact, it was an ease he had _never_ felt with anyone before. He felt the older man’s breath wave over his lips; somewhat knowing what the other was about to do. Kisses were something he had mainly seen in the outposts – because in the villages, men and women spent very separate lives. Men stayed in the men’s houses in the middle of the villages, and women tended to the children, sowed and cooked in the sodhouses surrounding the men’s houses. When a man and a woman were married, the man might spend some evenings with his wife, but if they kissed, it happened behind closed doors. In the outposts, however, Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen many kisses, mainly between the white traders and their Native wives.

When Haytham’s lips met his own, he was not sure how to respond, but he did not want the other to think he did not want this, so he pressed a bit closer. He could feel Haytham smile, and as Ratonhnhaké:ton felt himself bristle a little at the other’s amusement, he realized that the other’s lips had parted, kissing his lower lip, and then his upper lip, and then licking along the seam of the young man’s closed lips. Ratonhnhaké:ton blushed darkly; somewhat glad that the other couldn’t see him. Complying with the other’s implicit suggestion, he parted his lips; scooting closer and nestling himself more towards Haytham than he had been before.

The older man gave a quiet, pleased hum. An arm wrapped around Ratonhnhaké:ton and he shuddered but enjoyed the feeling of being held like that. It all felt like a dream rather than reality - amplified by the complete darkness around them and the low, muffled howling of the blizzard above them. Haytham’s lips returned to his own, and it seemed as if the other was pleased to have him comply and open his lips. The other kissed him again; Haytham’s lips brushing along his upper lip and then his lower lip; then locking with them as the other’s tongue met his’. Ratonhnhaké:ton was a bit startled by that, but he willingly opened his mouth more, questioningly sticking out his tongue to press it against the other’s.

It was odd and exciting at the same time; a curious, intense sensation he hadn't known before. It was wet, warm and intimate. Ratonhnhaké:ton closed his eyes. Not that it made a difference, but he felt like he could focus even better on how he was moving his lips and his tongue; mimicking the other's almost playful movements. Haytham's hand caressed his cheek, and he leaned into the other's touch a little more - shyly raising his hand to feel the other's skin beneath his fingertips. It was softer and warmer than he would have imagined it. The sensation caused another shudder to run through him - the experience feeling more _real_ now that he was touching Haytham, too. He remembered the other's muscular, taut body from before, when he had dried and warmed him up with grass. Of course, now the other's body was warmed by the layers of grass and clothing - and perhaps, like Ratonhnhaké:ton was feeling _warm_ from their kisses, this proximity warmed Haytham, too. His mind wandered, and he broke the kiss for air - gasping softly when he pulled away. His fingers were still resting on Haytham's cheek, and he could feel the other's hand brushing through his hair gently before coming to a rest on his neck. Haytham pulled him closer again, and the young man willingly complied. The older man pressed a soft, brief kiss to his lips, but Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted more.

He moved forward a bit eagerly, his nose pressed against the other's as he opened his mouth again and licked over Haytham's lips. He was a fast learner. Always had been. Ratonhnhaké:ton could hear a soft, breathless chuckle, and his heart was lifted up by the pleasant, low sound. "Easy, boy.", Haytham murmured, but then willingly returned the kiss - an amalgamation of brief kisses rather than a single one; and with each of them, the younger hunter grew more confident - not just in his abilities to mirror what the other was doing, but confident that this was what he had wanted since the moment they had met.

Ratonhnhaké:ton dozed off in the other’s warm embrace. They had moved onto the fur; lying next to each other with the stick between them still. But Haytham's arm around his shoulders had remained, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had kissed him until he almost fell asleep - kissed him on the soft, warm lips; on the corner of his mouth, his cheek, his temple and even, his neck. Haytham had allowed it, reciprocating in kind. Their faces had been close when they had dozed off, and the younger hunter had taken comfort in the waves of warm breath he could feel against his skin. Only occasionally had he woken up enough to move the stick and the dog harnesses to allow air to enter their snow shelter. He felt oddly content to lie next to Haytham; to feel the other's embrace, and know the feeling of the other's touch.

He wondered if, when morning came, Haytham would address their kisses and the exploratory touches, or if it was something that belonged to this one night only; something that had helped to spark warmth when they had needed it. Ratonhnhaké:ton had never shared closeness with someone else before, and he knew that the rules and behaviours for such a relationship were very different for the white people than they were for Yup’ik. Nevertheless, as far as he knew, there was always a sort of commitment that went along with a physical relationship – though… he was not sure if it was the same for two men. He vaguely remembered that one of the missionaries had said it was not allowed to lie with a man – but Haytham seemed unbothered, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had, after all, seen men entangled like this at the trading posts before. So, perhaps, what the missionaries had tried to teach them was not true for all of the white men. Ratonhnhaké:ton was well aware that they came from different lands, spoke different languages, and thus had different customs. And yet, he was reluctant to outright ask Haytham - as if speaking of what had happened would somehow cause it to shatter and disappear; or make it less real.

At some point, Ratonhnhaké:ton could not sleep any longer. He listened to Haytham’s regular breathing, and the low whistling of the wind above them. There was no light visible through the small hole providing them with air, but that was no surprise. The nights were long now, and their day would start in darkness. After a while, Ratonhnhaké:ton unfastened an edge of the parka and searched with his arms reaching into the soft snow for his shovel which he had stuck into the ground nearby. After he had found it, he crawled out of their shelter and shovelled himself out of the thick snow drift around their shelter. When he had escaped the thick layer of snow having accumulated around the shelter, he waited for his eyes to accustom themselves to the darkness around them. The wind was still cold, but the blizzard had passed. As he stood there, Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered if he should really stay with Haytham Kenway and the other's odd quest to stop the Russian traders. He wondered if what had happened last night had been real or a dream. He stared up into the clouds, and for just one moment, he believed that the clouds opened up enough for him to see the face of the moon.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thanks for reading! I really appreciate your kudos and comments, so thanks to every one of you. <3 It really means so much.


	5. Qimugkauyartun-gguq tan’gaurluq ayuquq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Lovely people, I hope you are all well during these chaotic times, and hopefully this new chapter helps to find some distraction. My apologies for radio silence for the past months - I have been busy with uni things, and though this fic has been on my mind, I didn't have the energy or time to finish it. I'm happy to say, however, that the next Chapter (6) is almost done. I was writing 5/6 as one chapter, but it got so long that I decided to split it. The publication of Chapter 6 should thus be soon!
> 
> The title of this chapter means "They say a boy is like a puppy", and it would continue like this "because it is easy to get his affections." This has actually to do with a teaching of women to stay away from men, so they don't lose their hunting focus! The saying implies that (young) men are easy to seduce.

This morning after the blizzard, Ratonhnhaké:ton stared up at the pale face of the moon. A shudder ran through him as he felt _watched._ He hugged himself absent-mindedly; his dark eyes trying to make out the face of the moon as clouds rushed past it. He could _feel_ his father’s presence, and for the first time he was absolutely sure about it. In rare nights, sometimes, he had felt seen like this, but it had been a breeze of a feeling – an inkling rather than a shudder that gripped him so entirely. With this feeling now came an understanding – a revelation of sorts. He was the moon’s dog, after all, and he would follow his father’s wishes. A calmness overcame him as he averted his gaze – he would accompany Haytham Kenway. He seemed to have his father’s blessing – perhaps he could help his people if he forged this alliance, and perhaps… he could find his father; see him again like this, up there, watching him.

When he turned around to start the tedious task of uncovering their make-shift tent from the heavy snow drift, he found ocean-like blue-grey eyes resting on him. Another shudder ran through Ratonhnhaké:ton, and with a certain kind of clarity he realized that this _gaze_ made him feel _seen_ like the moon’s gaze did. Perhaps that was the reason he both enjoyed and feared the other’s perceptive stare.

Haytham looked better now than on the previous day – the quick measures and the night spent in the warmth of their shelter seemed to have saved him from the cold creeping into his soul. Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen that happening – it took many days to recover from that, if one recovered at all. But this man… Haytham, he seemed strong just like himself, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had no doubt he would be a terrifying opponent.

He returned the other’s gaze, and for a moment, they looked at each other – the dim moonlight illuminating the white, snowy landscape around them. The dogs whined and rustled quietly; the breeze carrying the sound across the shore.

“I’ll come with you.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton said, his dark eyes locked with Haytham’s still.

* * *

“Why me?” They were sitting close to the small fire, where Ratonhnhaké:ton was melting some snow. Behind them, the young man had built a small wall of snow, supported by their sleds. It helped to keep the wind out, and it would be enough for them to construct a small tent later. They had been travelling for five days now, and Ratonhnhaké:ton guessed they would reach the next outpost in two or three days, depending on the weather. Haytham had explained more about the mission he had ‘recruited’ the young hunter for. It was a plan of violence – an attempt to stop the Russian sea otter fur traders moving northwards.

However, what had surprised Ratonhnhaké:ton was that Haytham did not seem to have the intention of finding more allies in this conflict – instead, he had proposed a raid on the traders' harbour on an island in the South with just the two of them. Apparently, there was a weapon storage, and a prison where they kept family members of Native leaders; blackmailing them into procuring the pelts for their overseas trade. Surely, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought, Haytham would find more men to support him; for various reasons, really. And even if he took only one other person with him – he could have found someone more experienced in these matters, right? Ratonhnhaké:ton reckoned that it still, somehow, had something to do with the Agalikmiut, and Haytham’s _obscure_ interest in that old story. The young hunter wanted to know why the Englishman was so interested in it, but he did not want to bring it up.

“We are alike.”, Haytham answered after a moment.

Ratonhnhaké:ton scoffed at that. “You are a _kassaq,_ we are not alike. You’re not one of us.”

Haytham raised an eyebrow, and his gaze was piercing. The low flickering of the flames gave them a warmer quality – they looked more like gems now rather than a rainy day out at sea. Ratonhnhaké:ton had to force himself to look away; worried the other could see more of him than he would like if he continued looking back.

“You are not Yup’ik, either.”, Haytham said quietly.

Impulsively, Ratonhnhaké:ton sprang to his feet - a burst of offense and anger rushing through him. It wasn’t the first time his belonging had been questioned. “I am Yup’ik. I have followed the teachings all my life. I have hunted, breathed and thought like a Yup’ik. I am.”

The Englishman cocked his head; more amused than irritated. For a moment, it seemed as if he wanted to challenge the other’s words, but when he spoke, his words were understanding rather than hostile. “When we met out there-” He gestured vaguely towards the lowland tundra. “I knew you before you even said a word. We are alike.” His gaze was intense, and Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered. He had never felt this… _seen._

“Whatever you think separates us - here we are. Just us – by choice and necessity. I wanted you to join me, and you did.” The flicker of the small fire illuminated Haytham's features warmly still, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had the urge to reach out and touch him, as if to reassure himself that it was true, and he was not socializing with an _ircenrraat;_ an other-than-human tundra person. He thought of the first night they had spent in the snow shelter, and the way the other’s lips had felt like on his own…

With a bit of humour visible in his eyes, Haytham added, “Also, for the record. I am not a _kassaq.*_ I’m an Englishman.”

“All the same. You’re no different.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton replied morosely; vaguely irritated that the other seemed to be able to see right through him so effortlessly. He sat back down at the fire; shaking the pot next to the fire, where they had fresh water from the snow. He had been taught to never eat snow, no matter how thirsty he was.

“If you’d believe that, you wouldn’t be here.”, the older man asserted, and the younger man stayed quiet because it was true.

That night, Ratonhnhaké:ton dreamed of the bear again.

_The young wolf was in the bear’s sodhouse still. He had eaten the bear's food, and had been given seal oil. He had snarled and snapped, but the bear had been unimpressed. The bear had taken off his fur and revealed his human form beneath it. There was a skylight in the middle of the room, above the small hearth. The bear’s silhouette was dark against the light coming from the the hole in the roof, and Ratonhnhaké:ton could only make out his human form, not his features. He could not see the bear’s face, but he could see the glint of the other’s bright eyes, and his silver hair shimmering in the diffuse light.  
_

_“I see who you are, Qimugtauyagaq.”, the bear said, and his voice was rough yet pleasant. The bear leaned over him, and even though Ratonhnhaké:ton snarled at him, he felt the other’s strong hands grip him. A whine left him when the bear sank his claws into his fur. His vision swam as the other ripped at his fur until it started to come off. It was a sharp pain as the bear took off the young hunter’s wolf form. Underneath that fur, a human hunter appeared._

_Ratonhnhaké:ton shivered; naked and revealed in his human form. He glanced up at the bear with dark eyes; unsure what the other would do._

_“But you don’t see me yet, do you?”, the bear asked._

* * *

The weather was kind on them as they made their way across the ice and snow. The ice was thick and firm; allowing their sleds to rush across the shores, and then, over the frozen ponds of the tundra as they made their way inland. Snow fell, but not violently so. They used the few hours of daylight as much as they could; usually able to set up a more substantial shelter by the time night fell.

Ratonhnhaké:ton learned how to utilize the strange hidden blade Haytham had gifted him after their very first meeting – it would surely be valuable in taking out the men Haytham targeted. Not once did the older man bring up the Agalikmiut – and occasionally, Ratonhnhaké:ton allowed himself to forget about the other’s interest in this old, painful memory.

At times, Ratonhnhaké:ton regretted his decision to have stayed with Haytham Kenway. This was mainly owed to the fact that the other had a strange power over him – an influence the young man did not want to trust the mysterious stranger with. And yet, he remembered that morning after the blizzard – when he had stepped out of the tent, and for a moment, he had felt his father’s presence when he had caught a glimpse of the moon. He carried this feeling of connection like a treasure in his heart, and he had carved a little _tuunraq_ out of antler to join the other one on his parka – a reminder that he was not alone, but that his father was indeed watching over him. Of that, Ratonhnhaké:ton was now more sure than ever.

Haytham and him slept close during the nights, but did not share the same intimacy they had in the first night. Ratonhnhaké:ton felt conflicted about this – doubting whether or not it had really happened. But the feeling of the other’s lips on his own – the other’s tongue against his own; he was certain he could not have imagined the way it had felt, and the way it had _made_ him feel. And yet, he felt uneasy initiating this intimacy; instead finding himself staring at the other’s lips when they spoke, trying to retain the memory of them meeting his own.

They reached the outpost eight days after the blizzard. It was getting dark, but they had made out the outlines of the small fort’s wall on the previous day and thus knew they were getting close. They pushed through a few hours of darkness, and were let into the fort after a brief discussion with the guard.

It was evident that Haytham felt at ease at the outpost; his demeanour changed, even if only slightly. It was the first time they entered a social setting together – so far, it had only been the two of them together. When the Englishman negotiated with the guard, Ratonhnhaké:ton could already feel an odd dissatisfaction with the fact that Haytham’s attention was shifting – there were more people and more matters demanding Haytham’s focus. Ratonhnhaké:ton had no illusions about the fact that Haytham’s influence here in the outpost would outweigh his own – despite the presence and influence of many Native peoples, this was an institution of white people, and he had sometimes encountered military forces in the outposts, too. It was rare, though, so far up North – he had heard it was worse in areas further inland, where the trade was more extensive, and the forts were disputed between different groups of white people.

The evening they arrived, it already became clear how their influences and powers differed. Haytham was invited to dinner with the outpost’s commander in charge – he was an Englishman, too, and the two of them seemed to stem from the same city overseas. Ratonhnhaké:ton, on the other hand, had to unpack the sleds, care for the dogs, and barter for further supplies.

The commander had set up some lodgings for them, and stressed that they were welcome to stay as long as they needed to. Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t like him very much; and he liked it even less that Haytham so willingly wandered off with him while Ratonhnhaké:ton had to carry their things over to their lodgings. Haytham’s room was within a small timber structure; a sort of cottage – one room, but with a small stone-backed hearth that would help him warm it up. There was also a bed, a table and a sort of washing basin.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s lodgings were less luxurious. He had been given a place to sleep in a shed built against the outer wall of the outpost; it was a small space with some blankets and hay, and the young hunter only looked at it once to know that he’d rather sleep next to the sled dogs. He waited up for Haytham to return, but eventually, he took his own sleeping gear and nestled himself into a corner of the shed where the dogs slept. It was warm enough, and he didn’t mind the whining, howling and snarling – he was rather used to it, after all. It still took him a long time to fall asleep. He wondered why – it wasn’t the first time he had chosen a spot like this, and it was not cold. After lying awake in the darkness for a while, he realized that he was missing a certain presence next to him. Somehow, the knowledge that the other was amusing himself with others in this very moment while he had seemingly forgotten about Ratonhnhaké:ton left a stinging sensation in the young hunter’s guts, no matter how much he told himself that it was not surprising.

* * *

Ratonhnhaké:ton awoke with a start. Haytham sat next to him; casually eating while he was rifling through some papers. The Englishman glanced at him with a raised eyebrow as the young hunter hastily sat up. “About time.”, Haytham remarked as if they had agreed to meet at a certain point in the morning. Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered how the other had even found him since he had not taken up his allocated lodgings. He eyed the older man as he regained his composure; shaking off the bedding and glancing at the food Haytham had in a bundle in his lap. It was a mixture of dried meat and fish, some bread and probably oil. A rather standard meal for winter in these parts.

Noticing his glance, Haytham procured a similar looking bundle from next to him and dropped it into the young man’s lap. A container of water followed. It was surprisingly… _considerate,_ Ratonhnhaké:ton thought to himself as he opened the water bag and took a few deep gulps. Then he unpacked the bundle; trying not to show that he was actually quite hungry. “You didn’t come back from the dinner.”, he said, mouth half-full with bread. He chewed slowly; staring at the older man next to him. He tried to make out what sort of papers the other was looking through, but he kept glancing up to meet the other’s gaze.

Haytham’s expression was mild but unimpressed by the veiled accusation. “I was being social. I reckon it’s not something you’re particularly skilled at.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton glowered at him but kept eating. “It’s not on me. They don’t like how I look.”, he growled in between a few bites.

Haytham shrugged. “That’s all some of them can see.”, he replied, finishing up his meal and folding the bundle that had contained the breakfast. He leaned forward a little, fixating the other with his bright eyes. “If I thought it was important for you to know how to socialize with these men, I would make you learn. There are more important skills you possess, Connor. Don’t mistake my assertion for offence.”

The young man stared back up at him; wondering if this was supposed to be some sort of praise. In any case, Ratonhnhaké:ton’s anger dissipated, and strangely enough, it felt -

“Now, wash your face, boy – we have somewhere to be.”, Haytham interrupted his thoughts.

* * *

“I’ll talk.”, Haytham said, and it seemed more like a warning than a request.

The room they entered was relatively big; sectioned with a few wooden boards and pieces of cloth, but all in all, no one seemed particularly concerned about privacy. Close to the entrance, an elderly Native woman was lowly negotiating the price of sewn goods she had to offer – boots, a parka and mitten. Some men were playing cards and drinking from heavy green bottles – wine or some locally-made alcohol, Ratonhnhaké:ton guessed. The young hunter kept close to Haytham – glancing around the room and trying to gauge why exactly they were here. His gaze stopped at a small corner table, where a young Native man had placed an arm around a blushing young white trapper – whispering things in his ears, and it was rather clear of what nature those whispers were.

Haytham seemed amused as he glanced back at him and noticed Ratonhnhaké:ton’s fervent gaze. “Don’t be flustered, boy.”, he muttered; side-eyeing the young man. “We are here for something else.”

But, in fact, Ratonhnhaké:ton was not flustered by the knowledge of this… place being frequented in these ways. He had seen places like this in the few other outposts he had been at – hidden backrooms like this, where certain goods were traded away from the prying eyes of the commanders or missionaries; places where men engaged with each other in those ways, and, most importantly for Ratonhnhaké:ton, places where Natives and Yup’ik could meet, barter, drink and socialize. While outposts were generally a place of meeting and negotiation - a shared place – the power balances remained unequal in many cases, and these backrooms were spaces for anything that would otherwise be frowned upon. No; the reason why Ratonhnhaké:ton’s cheeks had reddened, and his heart sped up, was entirely different.

He tried to concentrate on why they were here – which, in fact, he had only a vague idea about since Haytham had not been particularly forthcoming in that regard. Ratonhnhaké:ton knew that they were meeting with an informant; someone who had had a run-in with some sea otter pelt traders further down south, on the island where the Russians were currently trying to set up a more permanent trading port and where Haytham wanted his raid to take place. Haytham had apparently set up the meeting on the previous evening, but why exactly he wanted Ratonhnhaké:ton to tag along _this time,_ the young man was unsure about. Because, apparently, Haytham did not value his _socializing_ skills.

They approached a table in the far back of the room, where a few men were sat. While in conversation with each other, they were all focused on separate things; one of them was writing a letter by the looks of it, another was cleaning his musket, and the third was repairing his thick fur boots. When Haytham and Ratonhnhaké:ton came close to the table, their quiet murmuring stopped, and the one cleaning his musket glanced up at Haytham. His expression brightened a bit. “Eh, you must be Haytham! Take a seat, take a seat… Lads – if you’d give us some space?”

The other two gave a nod and grabbed their things wordlessly. Once they had vacated their chairs, Haytham and Ratonhnhaké:ton sat down.

“I brought my guide, Connor.”, Haytham said, gesturing towards the younger man.

_Guide._ For some reason, Ratonhnhaké:ton was displeased by the sound of that. In a sense it was perhaps true – out there, he was more experienced and knowledgeable than Haytham, whose realm was… _this._ But… Was that really all? The young man did his best not to sulk – relegated to being a _guide._ Were they not working _together?_ He wasn't some _kassaq's_ fucking _guide.  
_

“I see.”, the young trapper said, continuing to assemble his musket. He had barely looked at Ratonhnhaké:ton. Instead, his gaze was fixed upon Haytham, and Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t like the way he had looked Haytham over. The man was young – perhaps a bit older than Ratonhnhaké:ton himself, but not much. No one seemed keen on introducing him by name, either. “You want to know about the situation down South, eh?”

Haytham cocked his head; his bright eyes amused as he leaned onto the table. “Indeed. My request precedes me. It was mentioned that you have had some experience with the way things are run in the sea otter pelt trade right now.”

The young man put down the half-assembled musket and held Haytham’s gaze. “Why?”

The Englishman looked at him thoughtfully. “I want to rob those damn Russians and make some money off of it myself.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton did his best not to react to that – it was the first time he had heard anything of the sort – indeed, Haytham had never mentioned trying to make money off of this, and his evasiveness when Ratonhnhaké:ton had asked him about his reasons behind his interest in this matter was in stark contrast to his clear words now. The young hunter did not take him for someone interested in making a mere profit – particularly as Haytham had spoken of aiding Native communities against the Russian traders.

The other young man’s expression became almost joyful. “That’s a man of my taste! Jolly good. I expect some reimbursement for my information, then.” He leaned forward a little, and his hand brushed against Haytham’s on the table as if on accident. “Come by tonight. I have a room next to the smithy – I’ll tell you what I know, and we’ll agree on my reward.” His dark eyes were still fixed upon Haytham, and there was an eagerness visible that made Ratonhnhaké:ton’s insides burn with a curious sting.

Haytham readied himself to leave. “Very well. I shall bring some wine, yes?”

“Aye, I see, we will get along brilliantly.” The young trapper glanced at Ratonhnhaké:ton as he got up. “No need for your guide tonight, Haytham. I know... how it goes.”

“I’ll be there at dusk.”, Haytham replied simply, and motioned for Ratonhnhaké:ton to follow him out again. The young hunter complied, though barely so without a snide remark in the trapper’s direction.

When they stepped outside again, Ratonhnhaké:ton had the urge to rush off. He was angry and displeased. “Why did you make me come along if you do not wish for me to speak – and now I’m not allowed to hear that information at all?”, the young man huffed; fidgeting with his hands and trying to avoid the other’s gaze. Snow was falling, but the outpost was nonetheless bustling with activity – people were cooking, chatting, weaving, sewing and socializing in front of the timber-built houses and sheds.

Haytham turned to look at him; his expression exasperated. “Boy, do as I say. I don’t have time for your insecurities. Your presence had a purpose, and your absence will have a purpose. I have asked for you to join me on this undertaking, not to become my shadow.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton growled. “If you expect me to blindly follow you, you are mistaken, _kassaq._ I will not extent my loyalty to someone who is aiming to manipulate me for his own gain.”

Haytham stopped to glance at him; brows furrowed. “I have not lied to you, Connor. If I have not told you _all,_ then I have my reasons for that, and those reasons are not malicious as you seem to think. If you truly think so poorly of my intentions, why have you agreed to aid me?”

The young man clenched his jaw. “Is it true what you told him in there? You’re in it to make a profit?”

Haytham made a face. It seemed as if accusing him of this was a greater offence than implying that he was a liar and manipulator. “Of course not.”, he said with clear irritation. “It was what he needed to hear to give us the information we need.”

“Just like you told me what you thought I needed to hear?”, Ratonhnhaké:ton snapped; turning on his heels and storming off. Why was his heart so heavy, and his mind so chaotic?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> *kassaq stems from "cossack" and initially meant "a Russian person" but has come to mean "white person" more generally.
> 
> Thank you for reading! <3  
> I'm always happy about kudos and comments, it means a lot! If you have any historical or archaeological questions about this area/period, I'm also happy to answer them.


	6. Imarpik Elitaituq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title translates roughly to "The ocean cannot be learned." Ocean and land are regarded as quite different landscapes - the land you can understand and study, and be safe by following elder's instructions. The ocean, however, is seen as something too volatile and dangerous to ever truly 'learn' - if you think you have understood it completely, you might risk your life...

Snow was falling heavier, and activities in between the small buildings of the outpost had ceased. It had become quieter, and only muffled voices could be heard along with the whining of sled dogs and the distant calls of birds. Ratonhnhaké:ton had returned to his dog team – feeding them and starting to busy himself with cleaning and mending the sledding gear. He had calmed down a little – wondering how things should continue from here on. He couldn’t quite say why he was so angry – of course, the fact that Haytham was keeping him in the dark about quite a few things was infuriating, but at the same time, Ratonhnhaké:ton was aware that he was not telling the Englishman all he knew, either.

It had been fine to travel with Haytham – in fact, he had _enjoyed_ the week-long journey down to the outpost. But now that the other was so focused on _socializing_ with these other _kass’at_ … Ratonhnhaké:ton grumbled to himself. And despite the other’s silence about his motivations, it was true that the Englishman had been rather straightforward about his plans on raiding that Russian harbour further south. He had provided the younger hunter with a weapon, a map and let him verify the information himself. So far, Ratonhnhaké:ton had no reason to believe that Haytham was lying to him. But the other’s behaviour irked him endlessly; ever since they had arrived here yesterday, Haytham was so damn focused on everyone but him…

He half-expected – or _hoped,_ perhaps – that Haytham would show up while he was mending the gear, and they could… clear things up. Ratonhnhaké:ton knew that he had reacted poorly. A part of him just wanted to ready the sled and disappear. But he had his father’s approval to see this through, hadn’t he? Maybe they could leave this outpost soon. Maybe the snow would ease up over the next day or so, and after restocking some provisions, they were good to go. Haytham had wanted to reach the traders’ outpost before spring came, and so, Ratonhnhaké:ton reckoned, they would have to leave soon – it was quite a way down; a month at the very least, if they were not delayed by the weather.

Daylight slowly faded, and Haytham had not come to see him. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s had to stop his work as it became too dark to see properly, and he did not have a proper oil lamp at the shed. His own stubbornness and pride wavered, and shortly before dusk, he made his way over to Haytham’s lodgings. The snow was ankle-deep at this point, and he was glad about his thick fur boots. They were almost noiseless as he made his way through the tumbling, heavy snow.

There was light inside of the building Haytham stayed in. The young man tried to peek inside, but some cloth had been placed over the windows, and he could not assert more than that the fireplace had been lit. He hesitated but then knocked, glancing up into the grey sky from which snow was still tumbling down. Some people could predict the weather quite accurately, and in some families this sort of knowledge had been taught early on. Ratonhnhaké:ton had never learned this particular skill, and he often wished he had. He understood it to be dependent on the light, the winds and the clouds, but…

He snapped from his thoughts when the door was opened. Haytham leaned against the frame – only wearing a half-open white shirt and some Western-looking trousers that seemed entirely too tight. Ratonhnhaké:ton did his best not to stare – briefly confused as to why he was even here, and what he had thought about saying.

Haytham’s expression was mild, but he did not invite the other in. “Have you come to shower me with further, preposterous accusations, boy?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton sighed; trying not to huff. It was cold and it was still snowing, and he wished they could talk inside. “No.”, he said quietly, trying to look at everything but the other’s chest beneath the half-opened shirt, his knowing bright eyes, or the shape of his strong calves. “I’m not going to apologize.”, he managed out with a hint of stubbornness; fidgeting with his hands.

From the corner of his eyes, he could see Haytham shrug. “Ah?”

“But I…” He glanced up, immediately regretting it as his head seemed to fall into terrible chaos upon noticing a few lose strands of silver hair brushing against the other’s pale neck. He stared at them for a brief moment; doing his best to regain his composure and scolding himself internally for being so terribly distracted by… by absolutely _nothing._

Haytham raised his eyebrows, and Ratonhnhaké:ton took a deep breath. “I’ll help you still.”, he managed out. “But my loyalty is earned, not given.”

“Good.”, Haytham replied, his expression unchanged. “Is that all?”

Dumbfounded by the lack of reaction, Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at him for a moment; his dark eyes more pleading than he knew they were. “When will we leave?”

The older man regarded the other with a thoughtful expression. “As soon as we have everything we need.”, he replied, and before Ratonhnhaké:ton could ask what all that entailed, Haytham added, “Now – if you would excuse me – as you know, I have somewhere to be.” He reached behind himself and procured the bottle of wine he had promised the young trapper. He closed the door behind him, and made his way past the young hunter.

Ratonhnhaké:ton did his best not to make a face. Was Haytham really going dressed _like this?_

Indeed, he did, making his way through the snow seemingly unbothered. Ratonhnhaké:ton stared after him; watching snowflakes getting caught in the other’s silver hair. His stomach was stinging strangely, and he took a deep breath to help him clear his head.

* * *

Ratonhnhaké:ton leaned against the cool wall of the smithy; trying to pull himself together. That restless, stinging feeling in his guts was not easing up; no matter how many deep breaths he took. The air was cold and biting, but somehow it didn’t help him with the warmth in his cheeks, and his throbbing, burning heart. The snow was falling only slowly now, and a few people had scurried past since darkness had fallen. What was Haytham taking so long? Ratonhnhaké:ton fidgeted with his hands. Of course, he didn’t have to wait up. He had tried to return to his make-shift bedding, but he hadn’t been able to sit still. It wasn’t that he was concerned about Haytham’s well-being – no, it was… He huffed. That young man had looked at Haytham in a way Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen before – and, perhaps, in a way he could… _sympathize_ with. Would Haytham return those advances? The Englishman had kissed him during that first night – but then… nothing more.

Would he kiss this young man like that? Pull him in close? It would be… different. It would be comfortable and illuminated by a candle or a fire. The young man would be able to see Haytham. Ratonhnhaké:ton recalled the other’s pale skin; the scars that ran over the older man’s body. The other’s outfit tonight had been… somehow unlike himself, though, of course, Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn’t truly know that. Travelling out in the tundra certainly required a different set of clothes than the comfy life the Englishman might be used to in those far-away cities.

Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to banish the image of that half-opened shirt from his mind; along with the way the other’s silver hair had brushed across his bare neck… Would the young man undress first, and Haytham followed? His muscular, broad-shouldered build would look stunning in the warm light of a proper fire, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought to himself. His cheeks burned as he wondered if the young man would pleasure Haytham with his mouth, or if he would let him sleep with him. Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen men entangled like that at the outposts; rarely, and only at a glance. He was not entirely sure of the details, but he had an idea how it worked. Would Haytham really allow that? Would he touch that other young man like that? After they had been together, just the two of them, for over a week? Irritation nudged Ratonhnhaké:ton’s insides. Why would Haytham so willingly return that young man’s advances, after he had spent a week sleeping next to a young man he could have so _easily –_ He shook his head, but it didn’t help to clear it.

Did Haytham think this would aid their mission? Was it another case of using someone else’s _proclivities_ for his own advantage? Irritation and hot displeasure clawed at the young man’s insides. They didn’t need that young man’s insight _this_ badly, did they? Haytham seemed to have a solid plan already – why would he do this? He couldn’t… couldn’t _like_ that young man, right? That profit-driven, wine-affine, low-life trapper boy…

Ratonhnhaké:ton huffed; anger and irritation running through him hotly. And before he knew it, he had walked up to the building behind the smithy, and banged his fist against the door behind which he believed Haytham and the young trapper to be. He was listening closely to certain sounds, but he couldn’t make out anything in particular – not even voices.

After he had waited for the blink of a moment, Ratonhnhaké:ton leaned against the door with a growl. The flimsy lock didn’t hold his broad frame for long. He was not thinking through his actions, but it felt somehow satisfactory to finally act on the miserable feeling that had been irking him all day long.

The lodgings he entered were rather similar to those Haytham stayed in – it was a small room with a fireplace, a table and a bed. Some gear and parcels of fur were stacked here and there, and spoke of the young trapper having stayed here for a while. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s eyes, however, were immediately drawn to the table, where Haytham and the other sat. The bottle of wine was on the table, and both their faces were slightly flushed from the alcohol. It appeared as if they had not intended to answer the knock, which they had undoubtedly heard. They were sitting entirely too close, in Ratonhnhaké:ton’s opinion, but at least… they were fully clothed.

Haytham seemed for some reason amused rather than surprised, though the same could not be said for the young trapper, whose sour expression left no doubt as to how he was feeling about the intrusion. He was the first to speak. “What the _hell_ did you break down my door for?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton stood in the door frame and glanced from one to the other, his gaze landing on Haytham’s ocean-grey eyes. He could see that the Englishman was entertained, though he could not say why. “I… I have some information that I need to discuss with you urgently.”, he said, speaking to Haytham and thus not directly answering the other’s question. “You didn’t open the door.”

The young trapper wanted to respond, but Haytham placed a hand on the other’s shoulder and seemed to quiet him through that. “My apologies, Samuel, I reckon we have to postpone the rest of our conversation. I appreciate it. I will come and find you tomorrow, if you don’t mind?”

The trapper, whose name appeared to be Samuel, made a face but nodded. “Aye, alright. I will be seeing you, Haytham. We shall continue… the conversation.”

Haytham followed Ratonhnhaké:ton outside, and they made their way towards the older man’s lodgings. Ratonhnhaké:ton reckoned that it would be too cold to speak in the dog shed, especially as Haytham was only wearing this damned loose shirt… Mutely, he stepped into Haytham’s room as the older man held the door open for him. It was warm, and before they spoke, the Englishman tended to the fire, which had died down a little. Still kneeling next to the fireplace, he asked, “Now, what urgent business have we to discuss? What information have you received, and from whom?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton did his best not to grimace – how could the other be so oblivious? “Is that all you care to discuss with me – all that you require from me? Information and aid in your mission?”, the younger man asked with dismay.

Haytham looked both amused and irritated; taking a seat at his table, and regarding the other musingly. “That is indeed what I have asked of you – your aid in this endeavour, and certain information. It is what you agreed upon, is it not? It is the reason you have interrupted my meeting with young Samuel – or have you lied?”

The young man averted his eyes; the heat returning to his cheeks. Only slowly his gaze trailed back towards Haytham. The older man looked unfairly appealing like this – his cheeks still slightly flushed, his shirt indecently half-opened, his trousers leaving little to imagination, and his silver hair in some disarray; illuminated by the warmth of the fire. As always, Ratonhnhaké:ton found the other’s eyes resting on him particularly distracting. He swallowed heavily and muttered, “I thought… you would go too far to get information from him.”

“Were you worried I would kill him?”, Haytham asked bluntly.

The redness of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s cheeks darkened. “No…”

The Englishman gave an amused huff. But he didn’t ask again, and instead seemed to consider something. When he spoke, his question seemed disconnected to any of their previous banter. “Your family – where is your family, Connor?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton was taken aback; unwilling to share these rather unusual and personal details. He remembered that Haytham had wanted to know about the Agalikmiut, and he was reluctant to start this conversation _now._ But the other’s stare was intense, and Ratonhnhaké:ton reckoned that Haytham would not accept if he did not answer. With reluctance, he replied, “I don’t want to talk about that. My mother is dead. And my father… he’s out there. I see him sometimes, but we are… not close. I have his blessing for partaking in your mission, though. I don’t have a wife of my own. I’m not… _bound_ if that is what you want to know.” It was the truth, though not all of it. He could play the same game of hiding parts of his story.

The Englishman relaxed, but there was a wistful expression in his ocean-grey eyes. “I see.”, was all he said, and whatever reason he had had to ask about the younger man’s family, he seemed satisfied with the answer he had gotten. For a brief moment, Ratonhnhaké:ton thought Haytham would leave as the older man got up, but instead, the Englishman stepped closer; a finger guiding the young man’s chin upwards. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart missed a beat as his eyes locked with the other’s – his lips parted in breathless anticipation of a kiss. He recalled the feeling of the other’s lips on his own so painfully well – it felt as if he was helplessly drawn forwards. But before he could close the gap between them, a knock on the door interrupted his faint movement forwards.

Ratonhnhaké:ton wished Haytham would ignore it like him and Samuel had ignored _his_ knock not long ago, but he could feel the older man’s attention shift away from him – a feeling that was more physically unpleasant than it should be. The other drew away his soft touch, but a lingering warmth remained where Haytham had brushed his finger along the young man’s chin. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s dark eyes followed Haytham with an expression of yearning, and he hoped that whoever was at the door would not take up much time.

_“- Good evening, Sir, the commander sent me to cordially invite you to join this evening’s dinner –“_

Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t understand Haytham’s quiet reply, but the tone of it had been one of agreement rather than apology, and his heart sank.

“Don’t you dare going through my things…”, Haytham growled as he shifted past Ratonhnhaké:ton. The Englishman grabbed his coat and only briefly glanced back before he was gone; his bright eyes strangely expectant.

Then the door closed, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had barely made sense of the moment when Haytham had stood just an inch away, and now he was gone once more. His shoulders slumped a little, and he glanced around. Haytham hadn’t said he should leave. Was it an invitation to wait here?

Ratonhnhaké:ton let out a deep breath and tried to decide whether or not he wanted to stay. Part of him wanted to rush off – if Haytham was so willing to leave him just on anyone’s invitation, Ratonhnhaké:ton shouldn’t stick around… He shouldn’t run after this fucking _kassaq_ … Groaning, the young hunter flopped onto Haytham’s bed; staring up at the ceiling. At least it was warm here. He could take a nap and leave if the other hadn’t returned by then. Perhaps he could make Haytham chase after him for once… Like the first time they had met, and Haytham had come out into the tundra for him… _No._ For his information, not for _him._

The bedding had Haytham’s scent, and Ratonhnhaké:ton closed his eyes. They had only shared the tent for a week, and yet, he could recognize the other’s scent easily. He had missed it last night; missed the other’s broad, warm frame next to him. Only now that it was over, he recognized how pleasant and calming it had felt.

Some of the elders had warned him about ever smelling a woman’s scent – they said that it could drive you crazy; that it would put a sort of spell on you, and you couldn’t focus on anything but thinking about that woman. Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered if this could happen when you smelled the scent of a man, too. He had never heard about that happening. And yet…

Why the fuck was he so damn obsessed with an arrogant _kassaq?_ He curled in on himself a little. _We are alike,_ Haytham's voice echoed in his head. Was that really true? Because he felt like he was in so much chaos ever since they had arrived here at the outpost, and Haytham seemed to be in his element. He was so entirely… smug and confident here, more so than out there, where he had been determined and tough, surely…

Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered. He wondered what would have happened if Haytham had ignored the knocking. If they had kissed again. He recalled the feeling of the other’s lips and tongue against his own; only this time… He shifted a little. This time, Haytham could _see_ him. Those ocean eyes would rest on him once they broke apart; see only him... His eyes really were like the ocean. They said you could never learn the ocean – never truly understand its capricious, violent nature. You could learn the hills and lakes of the tundra, and you could stay safe on the land, but the ocean… You cannot learn the ocean. Ratonhnhaké:ton rolled on his back and thought of those blue-grey eyes, and the way Haytham fixated him with his glance. Maybe if Haytham had stayed, Ratonhnhaké:ton would have had the courage to pull off his parka; have the older man see his muscular frame in the warm fire light. Would the other enjoy such a sight? Sure, he might shudder and squirm under the other’s stare, but he would enjoy it, too.

He hesitated only briefly, and then pushed down his pants a little; just enough to be able to touch himself. There had been few occasions where he had felt this need, but the notion of Haytham being here with him, watching him… it was entirely too tantalizing. His whole attention focused on Ratonhnhaké:ton; no distractions… No errands, no other men… The notion sent a hot shiver down his spine, and the young hunter caressed himself, imagining Haytham being here; wearing this _terrible_ shirt, his hair a bit undone... If he came back now, mere minutes after he had left for dinner; drawn back by the prospect of continuing that fleeting moment… And he would find Ratonhnhaké:ton on his bed; legs spread a little… The young man gave a soft huff.

 _Boy, do as I say…_ Haytham’s voice had such a pleasant yet rough little drawl; his determination somehow appealing… Ratonhnhaké:ton gasped as he did his best to keep his eyes closed; imagining the other here with him. Perhaps Haytham would sit by the table and watch. Perhaps he would enjoy the sight – those _damn_ tight pants not hiding his delight… Ratonhnhaké:ton gave a soft whine as he stroked himself a little faster; concentrating on the other’s faint scent, and the memory of Haytham being entirely focused on him. He had never particularly liked people’s touch, or even people’s recognition. But for some reason, he couldn’t get enough of Haytham’s attentions. He wanted the other to touch him more; hold his face as they kissed, trail over his skin with his hands and lips as they were close, and like this, now, envelop his throbbing arousal with his clever fingers…

 _“Ngh_ … Haytham…!” Ratonhnhaké:ton gave a soft cry as he came; for a moment remaining as he was before he let his eyes flutter open. He almost expected Haytham to have manifested there from his fantasy; sitting at the table and regarding him with desire. But the room was empty, and the young hunter sighed.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading! I appreciate every single kudos and comment tremendously. I have the next Chapter drafted, and will post it soon. Chapter 8 will follow shortly afterwards.
> 
> I hope you are all safe!


	7. Pellatalek

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter describes "a place where people lose their sense of direction and get lost". I think the outpost is exactly this for Ratonhnhaké:ton. Most of his life, he has been by himself and struggling to form connections to others. Meeting Haytham made him think that he has found a kindred spirit, but here at the outpost, their differences are highlighted. Ratonhnhaké:ton has to figure out what he really wants, and if he can risk putting his trust in someone else for the first time in his life.

Three hours after Haytham had left for the dinner with the outpost’s commander, Ratonhnhaké:ton entered the small backroom, where they had met Samuel earlier this day – though it seemed… longer ago. The young hunter had waited for a while at Haytham’s lodgings, trying not to fall asleep, despite the familiar scent, the comfortable beddings, and the pleasant warmth of the fireplace. He had liked the idea of Haytham coming back and finding him still slightly dishevelled and indecent in his bed, but in the end, his stubbornness had won. If Haytham could so easily run off, Ratonhnhaké:ton shouldn’t stick around like a little puppy waiting for his master to come back. And part of him knew that if Haytham had come back before he had managed to leave… He was worried about giving the older man everything. The information he desired, his body to do with as he pleased, his affection, trust and loyalty; his help and his desires…

Instead, Ratonhnhaké:ton had run away – scared by the way his heart throbbed and his guts stung; scared what would happen once Haytham returned. He wanted to focus on something else – anything but those chaotic feelings, thoughts and desires swirling inside of him. But he also didn’t want to be alone; not with all these intrusive ideas and fantasies. He wasn’t sure what he expected to find in this backroom, other than some sort of distraction, but before he could make up his mind about it, someone called his name. “Eh, Qimugtaq!”

Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced around; finding a middle-aged Yup’ik hunter waving at him. He remembered the man – it was a member of a large family he had spent a winter at, two years ago. His name was Allirkar, and he was the brother of the hunter Ratonhnhaké:ton had stayed with. Glad about having found a somewhat familiar face when he needed it, the young hunter approached the table the other was sitting at by himself and sat down on the wooden bench next to him. It looked like Allirkar had busied himself with carving a piece of antler which, as of now, resembled nothing in particular. A bowl of water stood on the table to keep the antler well-soaked and easy to work with.

“What are you doing here? Taking up winter lodgings, or just passing through?”, the older hunter asked in Yup’ik while he continued carving.

Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated, then he answered, “Just passing through. How is your family?”

The other shook his head a little, and his expression darkened. “My brother is well, but… My sister and her family have fallen sick. They are in a village close-by, and I am travelling to meet them as soon as I can. I am bringing some medicine, and gifts for the shaman to help, but I have heard rumours that the whole village is sick – the shaman said the _kass’at_ brought it, and other villages are dying, too. I don’t understand it – we have always followed the elders’ teachings, and still, we are hunted by this sickness.” He shook his head again and sighed.

“I’ve heard of people getting sick, too.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton said quietly. So far, it had been stories about people way down south, so far away that he hadn’t been sure if it was true. He had never been that far away from the tundra – his journey with Haytham would take him further than he had ever been. He had journeyed inland to the outposts sometimes, but that had been the extent of his travels. “I hope you will be able to keep your family safe. I have not met your sister, but your brother has been very kind to me.”

The other nodded, glancing up from his work and placing a hand on Ratonhnhaké:ton’s arm. “It is good to meet a friendly face here, Qimugtaq. I’ll braid my anger and concern tightly into my hair lest I’ll act on it. But how have you been since I last saw you? Are you still by yourself, or have you found a wife?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s cheeks reddened a little. He couldn’t help but think back to lying in Haytham’s bed, and somehow wishing he could stay there and wait for the other’s return. “I… I’m travelling with someone.”, he said avoidantly.

Allirkar cocked his head. “Eh?”

The young hunter shook his head slowly; his heart leaping into his throat. “I don’t know yet if I want to stay with… with him. I thought I did, but I'm so nervous now. I feel like I can't trust myself because I want this too much. Or do I? I – I don’t really know what to do. I’m better on my own, you see. I’m not used to being around someone like this, and I’m worried I’m trusting him with too much… But how can I know? My head gets so… confused.” He was stuttering a little and the redness of his cheeks had darkened. Why was he even so flustered? Fidgeting with his hands, he glanced up to meet Allirkar’s gaze.

The older hunter seemed slightly confused and perhaps taken aback – Ratonhnhaké:ton wasn’t sure if the other had understood the implications of his words – the notion of being with a man in the ways he shouldn’t be. His breath caught in his throat, aware that he had started to talk about something he shouldn’t be speaking of – but it had felt good to voice this chaos in his head, and he had jumped at the chance to speak about this with someone else. Clumsily, he readied himself to get up. He shouldn’t have talked like that – hinted at these private things in conversation with someone he barely knew. “I- I have to go…”, he stuttered, wondering if he was making things more obvious. He staggered to his feet and took a step towards the door.

As Ratonhnhaké:ton set his eyes upon the exit, he found an all too familiar ocean-grey stare fixed on him. The young man briefly froze; a soft shiver running through him as he recognized Haytham by the door. He wondered how long the Englishman had been there. Haytham just stood there; arms crossed above his (still only indecently covered) chest, and grey hair spilling over his broad shoulders. It seemed entirely unfair that he was presenting himself like this to others, the young hunter thought to himself.

Ratonhnhaké:ton came closer with shaky knees – trying to decide whether or not he was walking towards Haytham or the door. This decision was taken from him when Haytham moved; opening the door and wordlessly leaving the room together with the young man.

The cold air of the late evening greeting them, and Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered. He wasn’t sure what to expect – how long had Haytham been there? Did he even notice him before he got up? Why did it even matter? At least the other couldn’t have heard what they had talked about – unless he understood Yup’ik, which Ratonhnhaké:ton doubted somewhat.

Once they had stepped away from the door, Haytham turned around; his expression somewhat irritated, though it was hard to tell in the dim light. “You change your mind too quickly, boy.”, he muttered.

Ratonhnhaké:ton bristled. “What are you talking about?”

“One moment, you quite literally save my life, and then have your jealousy entertain me – the next, you insult me, or run off to turn other men’s heads.”

With a hint of confusion, the young man stared at him. He could barely see the other in the darkness – there was an oil lamp outside of the building they had just left, but it was dim and not close enough to truly let him see the expression in Haytham’s eyes. “I’m not –“, he started, but stopped as he realized he wasn’t sure where he wanted to go with that sentence. _I’m not jealous. I’m not running off. I’m not insulting you._ And most of all – he wasn’t turning anyone’s head!

 _”You_ are the one running off constantly!”, he brought out after a moment, his voice wavering just a little. “You are the one… _socializing_ like _this…”_ His voice trailed off but his eyes flickered to the half-open shirt that had been distracting him all evening.

Haytham raised his eyebrows. “I am doing what I came here to do. I am gathering information, and trying to forge some alliances which will help us secure passage and protection if we need it after our mission down South. You, on the other hand, have been nothing but a nuisance today. How can I rely on you, if your erratic behaviour stays like this! I thought I knew what you wanted, but I have come to believe that you yourself do not know it!”

Ratonhnhaké:ton stared at him; his heart racing at the other’s blunt words. He was angry, but he was also hurt and confused. They had stayed here for just a day, and it already all seemed to fall to pieces. Travelling with Haytham had been easy – the week had gone by so quickly, and they had not had such difficulties with each other.

Part of him just wanted to rush off again – no _kassaq_ should talk to him like this – but he didn’t want Haytham to be right about him running off. He crossed his arms as he tried not to fidget with his hands; his gaze directed anywhere but the man in front of him. “I know what I want.”, he claimed brusquely. “And I’ve done what you have asked of me today.”

Haytham shook his head. “Then tell me.”

The young man remained quiet; trying to sort through the chaos in his head. He wanted… Thoughts of meeting his father bubbled up, thoughts of helping his peoples, of wishing to _belong_ somewhere - to someone, perhaps, thoughts of the desires for the older man who was just an arm’s length away now. But all of this seemed too incoherent and impalpable to voice.

“That’s what I thought.”, Haytham muttered. His fingers brushed against Ratonhnhaké:ton’s jaw, and the young man startled a little – his gaze darting back to the other; immediately entangled in the other’s bright stare and so distracted for a moment that he barely reacted when Haytham suddenly shoved him backwards and against the building’s wall. One hand was buried in the collar of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s parka, the other held him in place.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s eyes widened, but he didn’t resist as the other pressed close to him – those intense, bright eyes nothing but piercing him. Now that they were closer to the lamp, he could see the ocean in them again. He knew he should protest about being pushed around like this, but all he could really do was to notice how close the Englishman was – how _warm_ he felt, how his subtle scent soothed him, and how much he felt drawn forwards into the other’s proximity. He clenched his hands lest he would bury them in the other’s coat – or, better yet, slide them beneath it and open up that indecent shirt a little wider…

He startled when Haytham’s thumb brushed across his lower lip; his first impulse being to open them – wondering if he would be allowed a kiss. Would it help to tame that endless chaos in his head?

“Oh, boy, I can tell you what to _do.”,_ Haytham almost _purred,_ and Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart missed a beat at the playful expression in the other’s eyes. How could Haytham always see right through him like this? It was both irritating and alluring.

“But I won’t tell you what to _want,_ Connor.” The Englishman let go of him, and backed away. “You know where to find me once you’ve made up your mind.” He turned to walk away through the snowy, quiet paths of the outpost’s interior, and Ratonhnhaké:ton simply stared after him. Thoughts swirled in his head, and his heart was still beating heavily in his chest. How did everything become so chaotic in just a day's time?

* * *

The young hunter only got a few, restless hours of sleep that night. He had once more found his sleeping place next to the dogs, and he dreamed of the moon and the bear, but the disconnected pictures and scenes made no sense whenever he startled awake during the night. There was no moon visible, and he wished for his father’s guidance more than ever. He missed those nights when the moon illuminated the snowy tundra – light as day; the air crisp and clear, like Ratonhnhaké:ton’s mind. He had felt _good_ about accompanying Haytham when they had set off after the blizzard, and he had somehow thought that this journey would give him a purpose that he had been missing in his life before. But his mind was more chaotic than ever.

He was cold when he woke up in the morning, and he thought back to Haytham’s warm room. Maybe he should have stayed. Wasn’t that what he wanted? He blinked and tried to shake off the heavy tiredness – half-expecting Haytham to sit next to him like on the previous morning. But he was alone. The dogs were restless and bored, and Ratonhnhaké:ton sat up with a sigh; aware that he had to take care of them.

For most of the morning, he busied himself with this task, first looking after his own team, and then Haytham’s. The older man’s team was in a good shape; it seemed as if the Englishman had paid someone else to check up on them because they were already well-fed when Ratonhnhaké:ton looked after them. It wasn't snowing, but there were still heavy clouds that obscured the sun. The young hunter ate some of his own provisions for a small breakfast; a less indulgent meal than on the previous day.

Noon came and went, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had difficulties finding more to busy himself with during the early hours of the afternoon. He sat by the dog shed and half-heartedly attempted to carve a bear figurine out of a piece of wood he had found in the shed. It wasn’t the right kind of wood for an intricate carving, and so far, it did not look like much of anything. It helped to keep his mind off of the doubt and confusion, though, and it was perhaps good that progress was slow. He didn’t dare to go to Haytham – not without some sort of… _answer_ that the other seemed to expect. Similarly, he didn’t want to return to the backroom where he might run into Allirkar again; fearing the other's reaction to what he had hinted at.

Busying himself with all sorts of tasks helped to push away the Englishman’s words from the previous evening, along with all these messy thoughts in his head. If only he had means to ask his father for guidance, he thought to himself. Anyone, really, but there was no one he trusted enough. He had never been in a situation like this, and he felt incredibly lost.

Everything seemed to coalesce within Haytham. He was the one point of stability Ratonhnhaké:ton yearned for – which made him even more resistant to say that it was what he wanted. He had never needed anyone – not after what had happened to the Agalikmiut; to his family. He didn’t want anyone to have power over him; he didn’t want to rely on anyone. Part of him wished he had never met Haytham; his mind would not be so terribly confused now.

“Eh, Qimugtaq.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced up. And no matter how much he wished it was Haytham who came to make things alright again, he knew it was the older hunter from the previous evening. What could he possibly want, after Ratonhnhaké:ton had spoken so bluntly about his proclivities?

As if picking up on the other’s train of thought, Allirkar said, “I thought about what you said yesterday.” He took a step closer; his gaze briefly turning upwards and regarding the heavy snow clouds with a musing expression. “I would be honoured to offer my advice, if you would like to hear it.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton blinked a little in surprise. He had suspected the other would either avoid him after what he had implied on the previous day, or ridicule or scold him, even; remind him of the teachings. But advice? He managed a sort-of-smile; his eyes distrustful, though. “I… I would be thankful for your advice, Allirkar.”

The other gave a nod and sat down; looking at the piece of carved wood in the young hunter’s hands. Seemingly unconnected to his promised advice, he asked, “I hear your father is a _tuunraq,_ is he not?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded slowly; unsure what that had to do with anything.

“We know you are special, Qimugtaq.”, Allirkar said slowly; his eyes still resting on the small bear figurine. “I do not doubt that you will become a powerful man when you are more experienced, maybe even a gifted man, perhaps a shaman. It would not be surprising, given that your father is a _tuunraq.”_ He shrugged. “I will not speak badly about my brother, but I think sometimes people are kind to you, because they know you will not forget it. And you will help their children once you have found yourself, and your gifts. Maybe I am thinking of my family, too, when I am offering advice.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton remained silent; regarding the other with big, dark eyes. He had never considered himself to be special – different, yes, but… He did not have the abilities someone gifted would have. He could not aid people like that. Oh, but he wished he had those powers, and could fly up to the moon to see his father.

A small smile appeared on the older hunter’s face, and he glanced up to meet Ratonhnhaké:ton’s gaze. “You live an unusual life. It will lead you to many experiences that will make you a good elder. That’s what I believe.” He shook his head a little before he continued. “When we spoke yesterday, I thought about following you when you left, but I had the feeling you wanted some time to clear your head. You said your relationship to your companion is difficult and confusing, because you are not used to it. And you mentioned you were worried about putting too much trust in this person.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded slowly.

“How long have you been travelling with him?”, Allirkar asked.

“Only… a bit more than a week.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton admitted shyly.

The older hunter shook his head a little, but he was still smiling. “Have you been feeling this uncertain and confused about him the whole time?”

“No…”

“When did you start feeling this way?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton remained quiet for a bit; his heart aching. “Since we came here.”, he admitted eventually, his voice quiet.

“Ah. And why do you think it started here?”

“Because…”, he started. His cheeks burned as he averted his gaze and stared at the unfinished figurine in his hands. “Because he’s suddenly… busy with… with _socializing_ with others. I… It makes me want to run away. It makes me so _angry.”_ His voice had gotten small, and he didn’t dare to look at Allirkar.

After a moment of silence, the older hunter remarked gently, “Of course, I can’t tell you if you can really trust him. But I think you have just spoken of the worry that he will leave your company for someone else’s, and you are running to be the one leaving first. Are you running to leave him behind, or are you running to have him follow you?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced up; his heart aching still and his dark eyes full of doubt and insecurity. He wasn’t sure if what the other was implying was what he had wanted to hear.

* * *

The evening went by slowly, and Ratonhnhaké:ton was torn about what to do. The older hunter had left to prepare for his journey to his sister in a day or two, and his advice had left the young man still undecided. Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t want to believe that he was turning away because he wanted Haytham to chase after him, but… the prospect of leaving and indeed never seeing the Englishman ever again turned his stomach in panicky ways. How could his head be in such disarray, after merely a week of travelling with the older man? Though, ever since Haytham had shown up out there in the tundra, over two months ago, Ratonhnhaké:ton hadn’t been able to forget about him.

When dusk came, he gave in to his desire to wander over towards Haytham’s lodgings – he well remembered the other telling Samuel he would come back today, and Ratonhnhaké:ton hoped Haytham wouldn’t. Perhaps he could… talk to Haytham before the other left. He wasn’t sure what he wanted to say, but he couldn’t idly sit around, either. It was reasonably busy within the outpost as it was not snowing, and the young hunter slowly made his way along the well-trodden paths; his mood gloomy. The last bits of daylight gave the small settlement a warm atmosphere, but the young hunter only wished to leave this place.

Before he had even reached Haytham’s small building, he caught a glimpse of the familiar silver hair, and impulsively ducked away into a doorway. Haytham walked past – roughly into the direction of the smithy, similarly clad as on the previous day, and with a bottle of wine in his hand.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart sank, and he scolded himself for having hoped the older man would… What had he expected, really? That Haytham would wait in his room all day for Ratonhnhaké:ton to come by and tell him what he _wanted?_ He returned to his make-shift bedding, and crawled into the array of blankets and furs with that stinging feeling in his guts making it hard to breathe. He wasn’t hungry; he wasn’t tired – he felt foolish, and alone.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> I promise, they will reconnect in the next chapter. But there is still a big misunderstanding to be cleared up... I hope you'll enjoy the last chapters of this story! Thank you for taking the time to leave kudos and comments; they always make my day. Chapter 8 should be added in the next few days.


	8. Iralum Qimugtii

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Once again, I aimed to write one chapter but wrote a piece of the length of two. I am thus posting them at the same time to keep them somewhat together. This chapter's title translates to "the moon's dog".

Sleep only came after the outpost’s activities had ceased and darkness had fallen. There was no moon, and no stars, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had tossed and turned; thinking about Haytham’s and Allirkar’s words. He listened to the dogs’ whining and howling, and he felt like howling, too; hoping his voice would make it up to the moon, and prompt his father to give him guidance somehow. He was the moon's dog, after all, and without it, he felt lost. After long hours, the young hunter fell into a restless sleep.

_Robbed of his fur, Ratonhnhaké:ton whined, and snarled at the bear towering above him. His eyes darted towards the entrance of the sod house – he could see light at the end of the shallow tunnel, and he wondered if he could reach it before the bear overcame him again. But he was human now; naked and not as fast as he was on four legs – so was the other, though; and Ratonhnhaké:ton decided that it was enough of a chance for him to try._

_In a rather desperate little leap, Ratonhnhaké:ton crawled towards the narrow tunnel leading outside. If he hurried, maybe he could make it before the other pulled him back… But there was no strong paw grabbing him; no hot breath waving down his neck. Before he had truly reached the tunnel, the wolf glanced back at the bear. Was the other not following him? The young wolf’s heart was beating heavily, but he froze when he saw that the bear had not moved. Why was the other not chasing after him?_

_The bear chuckled darkly as he returned the wolf’s stare. “Do you really want to run away, Qimugtauyagaq?” His human frame shook a little with silent amusement. “Oh, but I have seen you now. I have learned all about you, puppy. Are you not pleased?”_

_He leaned forwards; his bright eyes shining in the dim light of the sod house. “I can chase you, if you’d like the thrill.” There was a dangerous gleam in his gaze, and a soft shiver ran through the young wolf. Ratonhnhaké:ton could still not make out the other’s features or face, but there was something familiar about the other’s alluring stare; his pleasant, growling voice and the shimmering silver hair… The young hunter backtracked a little; just enough to be close to where the bear sat._

_Staring up at the bear, Ratonhnhaké:ton slowly rolled on his back. His heart throbbed strangely as he presented himself like this – it was a gesture of submission, and doubtlessly, the bear understood it as such. The thick grass mats on the floor were pleasant on his back, and the wolf tried to ignore the nervousness that his nakedness and vulnerability caused to rush through him – letting the bear see him as he was. The other drew closer; leaning over him; his silver hair glinting in the light coming from the skylight above him. “I am no wolf, it is not my nature to chase after you, puppy. I am a bear, I stand tall.”, he growled.  
_

_The young wolf could feel the other’s arousal as the bear pressed close – they were both human without their fur, and their embrace was that of equals. Ratonhnhaké:ton recognized the other’s familiar scent; his heart aching. Without the furs that separated them, they could see how alike they were – the wolf’s creed, the bear’s order, and yet, they were humans now; entangled._

_The bear’s tongue trailed over Ratonhnhaké:ton’s neck, and his teeth scraped over the sensitive skin. The wolf whined, but it was not a sound of fear._

_The bear growled, but it was not a sound of hostility. “I know you want me to want you.”, he growled, and the wolf shuddered; spreading his legs and grasping onto the mats beneath him tightly. Ratonhnhaké:ton cried out as the other’s teeth sank into his neck; his body jerking in surprise and -  
_

With a gasp, Ratonhnhaké:ton startled awake. It was late at night, a few hours before dawn, and the outpost was quiet – some dogs were still howling, but otherwise, there was silence. The vivid image of the dream was fading, and the young hunter shuddered; slowly freeing himself from the bedding. His heart was throbbing, but he did not feel confused. Allirkar had been right.

Perhaps it was too late, and perhaps he would make a fool out of himself. And yet, he was determined and stubbornly hopeful as he made his way towards Haytham’s lodgings. This would resolve the unbearable situation one way or another – if it went badly, then he could ready the sled and leave the outpost in the morning. Maybe that was what he needed to do to regain his sane mind.

He glanced up at the sky after he had knocked on Haytham’s door, but there was still no moon, only darkness. He was by himself, and could not hope for his father’s guidance. It took a while for Haytham to open the door, and Ratonhnhaké:ton had already thought about whether or not he wanted to make his way over to the smithy, and see if Haytham was to be found in Samuel’s bed instead. The Englishman seemed to have been asleep; his hair was messy, and he was only wearing some loose trousers as if he had quickly put something on just to be half-decently clad. Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart leapt to his throat; both because of the sight of the other like this – bare-chested and slightly dishevelled – and the taste of the words he had decided to say on his tongue.

Before Haytham could even ask what he was doing here – waking him up in the middle of the night – Ratonhnhaké:ton spoke. “I want you.”, he said; his voice wavering a little. “I want you to want me. All of me. Just me.” With every word, his voice got a bit firmer, and his expression more determined – Haytham had asked to hear what he wanted, and here it was. He would give the other his aid, his affections, his body, his knowledge and attention. But only if the older man returned this desire; only if this was a mutual _pact_ \- he wanted the other's attention in return; he wanted Haytham's entire focus, at least when they were by themselves. Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted the other to see him – for who he was, all of him, and just him. He desperately wanted to forge this connection – for the first time in his life, he felt like he could. But baring himself like this; trusting like this… it was difficult and risky.

Even though the fireplace was barely lighting the other’s room with only a soft embers’ glow, and the light was _behind_ Haytham, Ratonhnhaké:ton believed to see the other’s expression of intensity and want. Or, perhaps, he could _feel_ it rather than _see;_ it was all the same. Before he even knew it, Haytham had once more grabbed him by the collar of his parka, and pulled him inside. Ratonhnhaké:ton let himself be manhandled willingly – at a moment’s notice, the door had closed behind him, and he was pressed against it.

Haytham stood close, and Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered as the other’s warm breath waved over his cool skin. It was a similar situation to before, but at the same time, it was entirely different.

“I do.”, the older man said huskily; bright eyes searching for the younger man’s. A hot little sensation sprang down Ratonhnhaké:ton’s spine, and he was entirely captivated by the intensity of Haytham’s gaze. “I want you.”, Haytham muttered as if his previous utterance had not been clear enough; his gaze dropping down to the young man’s lips, and back up to meet his wanton stare.

Ratonhnhaké:ton moved forwards; his hands tentatively brushing over the other’s shoulders and enjoying the warmth of Haytham’s skin beneath his fingertips. His tenseness melted away as Haytham pressed up to him and wrapped his strong arms around the younger man. They met in a heated kiss, and Ratonhnhaké:ton parted his lips to feel the other’s tongue against his own; to let their breath mingle, and their soft sounds be one. That stinging, restless feeling in his guts, he knew what it had been – and why it was dissolving now; replaced by a hot, intense sensation. It had only been a little over a week, and yet, Ratonhnhaké:ton realized how _much_ he had wanted the other to kiss him again. A soft sound of eagerness left him, and he pressed closer to the older man; his arms wrapped around Haytham’s waist, and his fingers dancing over the other’s bare skin. Only after a long moment and when their kiss had become an amalgamation of smaller, breathless kisses, Ratonhnhaké:ton pulled away enough to talk.

“T-tonight…”, Ratonhnhaké:ton stuttered, and Haytham shifted so that he could see the younger man’s face. “I s-saw you leave, to meet the… the other… that young… did you…?”

Amusement was visible in the Englishman’s bright eyes, and Haytham snorted lightly. “Your jealousy is rather entertaining, boy, truly.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton clenched his jaw; a bit of stubbornness gleaming in his eyes. The other’s subtle mockery would not distract him from what he needed to know. “Did you – did you…?” He left it unspoken, but he knew that Haytham could tell what he meant - _Did you sleep with him? Did you give him what I so desperately ask of you; your attention, closeness and desires?_

Haytham’s expression softened. “No.”, he said, and Ratonhnhaké:ton believed him; a weight melting off of his heart that could now flutter freely in his chest.

The young man disentangled himself from the other’s embrace, and stepped further into the room – half-turned towards Haytham still, and allowing the other to follow him. He knew he was too obsessed with the way Haytham looked at him - those ocean eyes transfixed on him sent shivers down his spine, and made his heart speed up to a steady, drumming rhythm. He was feeling light-headed and as if he was dreaming still - pleasantly unreal. It was a feeling he had only ever had in rare nights - staring up at the moon, and feeling like someone was staring back at him. It was a feeling of being seen - not just seen as something or someone he was not; but seen as himself, as all the potentialities that were bundled up inside of him at all times. The part of himself that could be a wolf out in the tundra and howled at the moon; the part that could ride the waves of the shallow bay in his kayak like a water bird, the part that was hunting like a human, the part that traded, travelled, and more. But never before had he felt seen like _this_ \- bare like this, no matter how naked he had been before.

There were stories about how other beings could see you – how their view of you was different, depending on what you did. Ratonhnhaké:ton had always understood this notion of his behaviour determining how he was perceived – if he hunted like a wolf, other wolves would recognize him. At the same time, he felt that these actions – him being out in the tundra by himself – obscured his human form for other hunters; and he had wondered if it was the reason he had never formed any meaningful relations with humans; that he had felt closer with the pack of wolves out in the tundra. But Haytham… just like the moon, he seemed to recognize Ratonhnhaké:ton just the way he was.

Ratonhnhaké:ton had never been entwined like this before - the elders had warned him of coming too close with women, and he had never particularly wished for anyone's proximity. But there was something about the other that had fascinated him from the moment they had met, and he could not explain it. Haytham had remained by the door; watching the other and waiting for what Ratonhnhaké:ton aimed to do. The young man slowly pulled off the parka and placed it over one of the chairs. He pulled off his shirt, and put it aside, too. He had met many men before; _kass'at_ and Yup'ik, and yet never bathed in their attention like he was now in Haytham's attentive gaze that he could feel running over his bare chest. He was still wearing his trousers and boots, and for a moment, he wondered if he should take them off, too. But his deliberation was interrupted as Haytham moved; stepping close to the other and brushing his fingers over Ratonhnhaké:ton’s muscular chest. The young hunter gasped; never having thought that someone’s touch could entice him like this. He could see admiration and desire in the older man’s bright eyes, and he knew how true his words had been - how much he had _wanted_ the other to want him like this.

Only now that they had stepped closer to the low fire, Ratonhnhaké:ton could truly appreciate the other’s form, too. He could see many scars strewn over the pale skin, and he wondered what had happened to Haytham. He remembered seeing them when he had helped the other warm up – just over a week ago, though it seemed much longer. With a hint of shyness, he reached out – letting his fingers slowly run over the other’s muscular chest and tracing some of the white lines with his fingertips. He wanted to remember them – he couldn’t ever learn the nature of these ocean eyes, but these muscular curves, he wanted to map out and know by heart. His eyes flickered upwards; meeting the older man’s intense gaze. Another soft shiver ran through him, and he remained as he was; his fingertips resting on the other’s chest.

Haytham’s hair was messy from sleep, and was spilling like liquid silver over his broad shoulders. It reminded Ratonhnhaké:ton of a dream he had had, but he couldn’t remember it in this moment; too distracted by the way Haytham looked at him.

With his heart still beating so steadily, heavily in his chest, Ratonhnhaké:ton gently urged Haytham backwards and to the bed. The older man complied; his fingers brushing over the younger man’s taut skin and resting on his hips as he moved backwards. Haytham sat down on the bed and was ready to pull Ratonhnhaké:ton onto his lap, but the younger man shook his head. He stepped backwards and left the Englishman’s embrace. Only Haytham's eyes followed him now.

Shuddering under the other’s intense gaze, Ratonhnhaké:ton stood closer to the fireplace; letting the warm embers illuminate his broad, muscular frame for Haytham to see. He stretched; letting the Englishman watch him. Ratonhnhaké:ton could tell that the other liked the sight, and he was thrilled by the prospect of showing Haytham _more._

He let his fingers trail over his body as a guidance for Haytham’s eyes to follow. Brushing through his hair first, he slowly started to undo the loose braids and shake his dark mane over his bare shoulders. He kept his hair longer than most of the hunters he knew, although he usually tied it back with a ribbon or braided it. But he wanted Haytham to see him as he was; all of him. Now that his dark hair was spilling over his broad shoulders, Ratonhnhaké:ton let his fingers wander further down. He let them trail over his chest and stomach; turning around and stretching once more. Despite the scars on his back, there was no uneasiness about showing off his body. What he wanted was for Haytham to see all of him – the scars from that night; his hair, his frame, his arousal…

When he turned around again, he caught the other’s gaze, and another shudder ran through him pleasantly. Haytham’s piercing stare was wanton and full of desire, and the young man’s heart missed a beat at the intoxicating intensity of it. It was as if he had led his kayak far out into the ocean, and he knew he would have to let the storm take him and toss him like a piece of wood, and he would come out of the danger stronger and better.

After he took off his shoes, he was only wearing his pants; his heart beating rapidly in his chest as he started to open them, and then let them slip to the floor. He stood there, fully naked now; panting a little as he let Haytham appreciate him. It was all too enticing to be looked at this way; to have Haytham’s attention focused on him alone. Slowly, Ratonhnhaké:ton reached down to run his fingers over his cock; slightly aroused by the other’s stare alone. He started to give himself gentle strokes; just enjoying Haytham’s attention fully.

He was reminded of the evening over a day ago, when he had been where Haytham was now – fantasizing about the older man watching him as he touched himself. The desire he could see in the other’s eyes now was so much more _intoxicating_ than he could have ever imagined, and his whole body seemed to be hot with excitement. _“Nn-gh…”_ He bit back the soft sounds that wanted to pour over his flushed lips; biting his lips and shuddering under Haytham’s stare. He rubbed his thumb over the tip of his cock; enjoying the slight wetness and the intense sensation – his eyes half-lidded as he watched the older man watch _him._

Ratonhnhaké:ton was close to the edge, and undecided whether or not he wanted to ask the other to stroke him to completion, or find his satisfaction otherwise. His mind was spinning with the hope of becoming so closely entangled as he had seen other men be – but he knew so little about it, he thought to himself shyly. However, it seemed as if Haytham had done this before, and perhaps he could let himself be guided by the other’s instructions… _I can tell you what to do,_ it echoed it in his head, and Ratonhnhaké:ton shuddered.

“T-tell me what to do – so we can… so you can embrace me.”, he muttered, a hint of embarrassment and anticipation dusking his cheeks in a faint pink. 


	9. Akusrarutekiyaraq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> This chapter's title is a little blunt - it's a term used to describe an act of fooling around; especially in regards to (illicit) sexual relations, and is of course usually used in regards to admonishment against it!

Breathlessly, Ratonhnhaké:ton awaited the other's response to his request. He had seen the desire in Haytham's ocean eyes, but would the older man want to go further?

After a brief moment of consideration, Haytham motioned to a corner of the room, where most of his gear was to be found. “Bring me my pouch from over there, then.”, he said; his voice husky.

It seemed as if he enjoyed watching the other fetch it for him; stark naked as Ratonhnhaké:ton was now. The young man liked the way the other's eyes followed him, and he took his time to procure the familiar pouch. He brought it over to the bed where Haytham sat; his knees a bit weak. The small bottle Haytham produced from the pouch was familiar to the young hunter – he remembered how Haytham had used the oil from it to maintain his weapons, and ease the mechanism of that odd hidden blade. He had an idea how the oil was used, and he shuddered.

“You haven’t done this before, have you?”, Haytham asked; glancing from the bottle of oil in his hands up to meet the younger man's gaze. His voice sounded mild and curious rather than displeased by Ratonhnhaké:ton's inexperience.

“No.”, the young man admitted. He was not ashamed of this lack – and he reckoned that Haytham only wanted to know so he could be sure about how to proceed.

“Very well. Now, come here, boy.”, Haytham purred huskily; patting his lap.

Ratonhnhaké:ton gasped softly and moved forwards; his knees indeed weak with the notion of where this was going. The bulge visible in the other’s trousers was exciting to see; the young man was thrilled with the knowledge that the Englishman _enjoyed_ looking at him; watching him touch himself. He moved onto the older man’s lap and flung his arms around the other’s broad frame. He caught Haytham’s intense gaze and was struck by the wanton expression – making him wonder once again why they had not indulged in any of this during their week-long trip down to this outpost.

“I’ll prepare you so that it won’t hurt.”, Haytham explained, his voice low and almost gentle.

Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded; his cheeks burning. He was unused to being the unknowledgeable one around Haytham, but here at the outpost, their roles were reversed, and Haytham was the one in charge; knowing how to behave, and what to do. It was another fraction of power that the young man had given up - allowing Haytham to be the one leading _him._

The younger hunter watched Haytham pour a bit of the oil in the palm of his hand, and then slick his fingers. The oil had a sweet scent, and Ratonhnhaké:ton reckoned it wasn’t seal oil – what else it could be, he was unsure of. He buried his face in the crook of Haytham’s neck; shuddering when he could feel the other reach around him. Even though he knew what Haytham was about to do, his body jerked a little when Haytham’s fingers nudged his entrance. He had never been touched so intimately before, and it did feel... _odd._ The older man’s fingers spread some of the oil and Ratonhnhaké:ton almost expected the other to say that it was enough preparation, but then Haytham pressed a finger against him as if to slide it inside of him. The young hunter stiffened a little; unsure if he liked the sensation of the other’s finger entering him. But if he already disliked this, could he truly enjoy the other’s… _cock_ inside of him? He tried to take a deep breath; knowing he hadn’t experienced this before, but he wanted this to feel good, for both of them…

Haytham shushed, and Ratonhnhaké:ton was snapped from his doubtful thoughts. “Relax, boy. I imagine it feels strange now, but it will pass, trust me.”, he muttered, and Ratonhnhaké:ton nodded; nuzzling the other’s neck and shifting in Haytham’s lap a little. The older man’s lips brushed over the sensitive skin of his shoulder and neck, and when Haytham started to place kisses and nibbling bites there, the young man did his best to focus on these pleasant, distracting sensations rather than the odd feeling other’s clever fingers teasing his ass.

A soft gasp of surprise left him when Haytham eased another finger into him and started to move them – stretching him and spreading the oil more thoroughly. Ratohhaké:ton was panting softly – his attention divided by the movement of the other’s fingers into him, and Haytham’s lips and teeth on his neck. _“Nh…”_

The young man remembered the dream he had had before he had come over – oddly caught in the notion of being embraced by that strong figure.

Breathlessly, he muttered, “Bite… bite my neck… please…?”

If Haytham was doubtful or surprised about the request, he did not react in any particular way – instead, he raked his teeth over the young man’s skin a little more forcefully, and Ratonhnhaké:ton gasped; his hips jerking a little. He could feel the older man’s hot breath on his neck, and his stomach churned in anticipation while the sensation of Haytham’s fingers moving inside of him had slowly turned into something strangely pleasant – the slickness and rhythm of it creating a maddening promise of pleasure.

Playfully, Haytham seemed to let him anticipate the moment he would fulfil the younger man’s request – kissing and nibbling at the other’s neck, but not _quite_ doing what Ratonhnhaké:ton had asked of him while his fingers continued their thrusts. The young hunter whined; squirming in hot anticipation. Then, suddenly, Haytham’s teeth sank into the sensitive skin, and Ratonhnhaké:ton gave a soft cry of surprise – and _pleasure._ His fingernails scraped over Haytham’s shoulders, and the older man gave a soft hiss, though he seemed unbothered and licked over the younger man’s abused skin.

Ratonhnhaké:ton realized that Haytham had added a third finger – he could feel them thrust inside of him and stretch him, though he couldn’t tell when the other had done so; too distracted by the pleasant sting of where Haytham had bit him.

The older man shifted a little, and suddenly retreated his fingers. Ratonhnhaké:ton gave a questioning sound of loss – having started to enjoy the stimulus of that slick, steady rhythm.

“Do you want to do it like this?”, Haytham asked, and his voice sounded rough – perhaps owed to the intense desire Ratonhnhaké:ton believed to see in the other’s ocean eyes. The young hunter briefly considered the other’s question before he shook his head. While he liked the idea of remaining in the other’s lap and perhaps having more control over their pace and the forcefulness of their union, he felt like the wolf in his dream; willing to let the other take over and anticipate what the older man would do once he was in control.

He slipped off Haytham’s lap and instead shifted onto the bed – rolling on his back and gazing up at the older man with hazy eyes; legs spread slightly. It was an invitation, and Haytham seemed to understand it as such.

The older man moved closer and between Ratonhnhaké:ton’s legs; towering over him. With his heart beating heavily in his chest, he watched as Haytham brushed his fingers over the bulge in his trousers and then reached out to pull them down enough to bare his cock. Ratonhnhaké:ton had seen the other naked before – briefly and in a moment that had been far from intimate – but the sight that presented itself to him now was beyond anything he could have imagined. He savoured the way the low fire cast soft shadows on the older man’s scarred skin and muscular chest, and how it let his hair appear like strands of gold weaved into a silver sunrise on a winter’s morning. The other’s ocean eyes looked dark; like a stormy night on sea, when one hoped to find back to the shore. His arousal left no doubt that he desired the young man, and another hot shiver of anticipation ran through Ratonhnhaké:ton.

Haytham proceeded to run his oil-slicked fingers over his cock, and Ratonhnhaké:ton enjoyed the way the other’s arousal looked now – the oil giving it a warm shimmer in the dim light. The young man’s mouth went dry at the knowledge that Haytham was about to thrust it inside of him; to let them enjoy this incredible intimacy together.

Willingly, Ratonhnhaké:ton let the other raise his hips, and he did his best to stabilize them by wrapping his legs around the other’s waist. It was a different entanglement than he had seen in the corners where men had met like this; pressed against walls and ducked into hidden spaces. He liked the prospect of Haytham being able to see him, and in turn, of being able to see the other while they became one. There was no rush, and no prying eyes.

He caught Haytham’s glance and let himself be lost in those ocean eyes. Clasping the sheets of Haytham’s bed, Ratonhnhaké:ton felt the other’s cock press against his ass; slick with oil, hot and firm. The young man was panting softly; his stomach hot with anticipation, want and a hint of nervousness. Would it feel good? Would it be what he wanted it to be?

When Haytham moved forward and pressed against him, a soft whimper left Ratonhnhaké:ton's lips before he could bite it back. The young man averted his gaze as he bit his lips; tears stinging in his eyes as he tried to distract himself from the odd feeling of intrusion and stretching as Haytham eased himself inside of him. His hands ripped at the sheets, and his heels dug in Haytham’s back.

“Look at me, Connor. Look at me.”, Haytham commanded; his voice strained.

The younger hunter slowly let his gaze trail back to look at the other; slightly embarrassed and wondering if there was something wrong with him because it didn’t feel good to have Haytham penetrate him.

Haytham’s expression was stern; Ratonhnhaké:ton could tell that he was holding back – that he was being slow against his desire to move more. And yet, the other’s expression softened when their eyes met, and Haytham took one of the younger man’s hands while his other hand held onto Ratonhnhaké:ton’s hips firmly. He guided the other’s hand up; kissing Ratonhnhaké:ton's knuckles and then guiding the young man's hand over his scarred chest and firm stomach; down to his cock about to plunge into the other's body further. “Relax. I’m inside of you now, Connor.”, Haytham muttered darkly; holding Ratonhnhaké:ton’s gaze still. He let the younger man’s hand feel how his cock was slowly entering him. “I can see how your body is accepting me – do you feel it?” His voice was slightly breathless and rough, and the young man shivered. The other’s gaze helped distract him from the unfamiliar sensation, and he could indeed feel how the other’s hot, firm member pushed inside of him. He gasped softly; letting his fingers envelop the other’s slick cock and help guiding it as Haytham moved slowly forwards. Ratonhnhaké:ton let himself be held in the older man’s intense gaze, and when Haytham bent over him, he greedily met the older man’s lips in a kiss.

Soft, strangled sounds left Ratonhnhaké:ton’s lips into their messy kiss as Haytham moved forwards and slid inside of him. His shaky fingers guided the other’s slick cock, and he somehow enjoyed the feeling of firmness and warmth against his fingers; the feeling of their bodies uniting underneath his fingertips. The sensation of intrusion became more bearable as he could feel their bodies meeting; as he could kiss Haytham while they became one. Haytham held him in place with one hand while the other now brushed over his broad frame; dancing over his chest and teasing the young man’s cock gently. All helped Ratonhnhaké:ton to relax a little more, and distract him from the unfamiliar sensation of being taken for the first time. A quiet little moan left him when Haytham’s thumb brushed over the sensitive tip of his cock, and perhaps he clenched up around the other’s cock more, because Haytham shuddered above him.

Haytham broke their kiss and pulled away enough to watch the younger man beneath him; his eyes dark yet warm; his cheeks and lips flushed. The young man groaned and gasped quietly; catching the older man’s glance again and shuddering under the intense gaze. His hips shook as he accepted all of the older man’s cock; feeling oddly full and stretched as he pulled away his hand; instead reaching up to run his fingers through the other’s silver hair.

“You can move.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton muttered breathlessly. “Just… don’t stop looking at me.” A faint blush returned to his cheeks; his eyes teary and yearning.

Haytham bowed his head a little but did not break their eye contact. A small half-grin played around his flushed lips, and after a moment in which he seemed to seek for composure, he replied, “Boy, I’ll make you mine…”

Slowly, he started to roll his hips – only pulling out slightly and easing himself back inside of Ratonhnhaké:ton’s body. One hand supported himself on the bed, while the other held the younger man’s hips in place. Soon, his motions grew quicker, and he found a smooth rhythm of thrusting inside of Ratonhnhaké:ton. The older man’s breath had started to come heavier now, and his gaze had grown a little hazy, too. Ratonhnhaké:ton enjoyed the sight of the other’s pleasure; his heart drumming in his chest again – fuelled by the other’s clear desire and enjoyment, along with the steady sensation slowly turning into a pleasant stimulation.

Ratonhnhaké:ton allowed his hips to move on their own; meeting the older man’s thrusts as much as Haytham’s firm grip allowed. _“Nh_ – ah, Haytham… Feels… feels good…”, he managed out; holding the other’s gaze. Being watched by the older man still excited him, and it was only spurred by the feeling and sensation of them being one; of Haytham seeing him like no one ever had – and probably no one else ever would. It was an intimacy that wasn’t marked by the physical act of having sex, but rather, for Ratonhnhaké:ton, an action of vulnerability and openness that had been incredibly hard for him. Letting someone else embrace him, and see him; giving someone else power over him; it all had been a leap of faith.

With pleasure slowly starting to build up from the steady stimulation of being filled over and over again, Ratonhnhaké:ton reached down to give himself lazy strokes; wanting to push the pleasure and stimulation further. He didn’t have to fantasize about Haytham watching him – the other was, and more. The other saw how they were connected; felt the heat of the younger man’s body around him, and guided the rhythm of their lovemaking.

“Ah, Haytham… Haytham…” It was merely the other’s name that left his lips, but Ratonhnhaké:ton meant so much more – it were unspoken words of gentle affection, trust and appreciation; an expression of the warmth and pleasure that pulsed through him now. “ _Ngh – H-Haytham!”,_ he cried out softly as he came – spilling over his fingers and his stomach, and clenching up tightly around the older man’s cock.

Haytham growled – a low, rumbling sound of pleasure and impatience. Doubtlessly, the older man was close to the edge, too; his rhythm slowly becoming more erratic and harsh.

Ratonhnhaké:ton sagged a little; groaning as the other fucked him through the orgasm; listening to Haytham’s heavier breath, and the slick, wet sounds of the other’s cock pressing inside of him in an unsteady rhythm. His eyes were half-lidded as he glanced up at the other; lips parted and cheeks flushed; come glistening on his muscular chest, and his dark hair radiating out from him. Haytham’s eyes were still focused on him, and Ratonhnhaké:ton enjoyed the lewd gaze. He knew that he looked dishevelled, and he drank in the adoration and want he could see in the other’s piercing stare.

Then, with a groan, Haytham suddenly pulled out of him, and after giving himself a few tight strokes, he came, too; spilling over Ratonhnhaké:ton’s stomach with another low growl leaving his lips and his eyes briefly fluttering shut.

For a moment, they remained as they were; catching their breath and enjoying the tingling bliss running through them. Ratonhnhaké:ton slowly surfaced from the feeling of pleasure rushing through him; shifting underneath the older man and pressing a kiss to Haytham’s arm next to him. “Please… show me more…”, he muttered; glancing up at the other pleadingly. “Embrace me again…”

Haytham huffed; his expression amused. “What youthful hunger you possess…”, he muttered, still slightly breathless. “Turn around, then, boy.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton did as the other asked of him; his knees feeling a bit weak, and his ass slightly sore – though it was a rather pleasant reminder of the intimacy they had just shared.

Haytham adjusted his position, and nudged the younger man to raise his ass more. Ratonhnhaké:ton realized how Haytham wanted to take him, and he shifted on his hands and knees; legs spread as he could feel the older man move behind him. He glanced back at the other; content to know that Haytham was the one watching him this time.

The older man leaned over him; his half-hard cock pressed against Ratonhnhaké:ton’s ass, and rubbing against it in pleasant, slick friction. Haytham groaned lowly, and the younger man did his best to move his hips in the rhythm of the other’s slow movements against him. Once Haytham’s cock felt firm and hot against him again, Ratonhnhaké:ton gave an impatient sound, and glanced back at the other again. Haytham snorted a little; apparently amused by the young man’s wanton, shameless impatience.

He aligned himself with the younger man’s body once more, and this time, he slid inside of him in one smooth motion. Ratonhnhaké:ton gasped as he was filled out once more; able to enjoy the slight stretch and the slick, hot penetration. He held onto the sheets beneath him tightly; letting his eyes flutter shut as he couldn’t see Haytham anyways. Instead, he focused on the sensation of the other being inside of him again – the feeling of the older man breathing down his neck and slowly starting to roll his hips again. Haytham’s hands were resting on the younger man’s hips, and his thrusts were a bit harsher now – perhaps aware that the slickness and previous union had prepared Ratonhnhaké:ton well enough to be rougher with him now.

The younger man allowed quiet, eager noises to come over his flushed lips plentiful; his head bowed as he held up his shaking hips. Haytham shifted slightly, and as he pushed inside of the other’s body again, a sudden, odd yet intense sensation jolted through Ratonhnhaké:ton's body. _“Ngh – Ah!”_ He couldn’t help the soft cry that left him; taken entirely by surprise by the strange pulse of sensation rushing through him.

He could hear and feel Haytham’s breathless chuckle against his neck, but before he could ask or comment on the feeling, the older man thrust inside of him again; repeating the exact motion and letting Ratonhnhaké:ton’s body jolt once more. The younger man gasped and moaned; shuddering as the older man continued to brush past that odd spot inside of him. It was a different experience in comparison to their first union, and perhaps owed to the fact that he was not only more relaxed than before, but also somewhat more used to the feeling of penetration. Ratonhnhaké:ton felt like it was more intense and pleasurable than before; and instead of stroking himself to completion while Haytham thrust into him, he clasped the sheets tightly and moved his hips in unison with the older man’s pushes.

Low moans spilled over the young man’s flushed lips, and he could hear Haytham’s ragged breath – it waved hotly over his neck as the older man bent down; and suddenly, Ratonhnhaké:ton felt the other’s lips on his neck; Haytham’s teeth scraping over the sensitive skin. He whined; anticipating what he reckoned would happen. He clenched up tightly around the other, even before Haytham bit him again.

A soft wail left the young man; unable to hold back as Haytham pushed into him and past that incredible spot, simultaneously biting down on his neck. Ratonhnhaké:ton came again; pleasure rushing through him, unlike ever before. He collapsed beneath the older man; whining softly as Haytham pulled out.

He could hear how Haytham stroked himself to completion; weirdly enough wishing the older man would finish inside of him – though… he reckoned it would be a mess, and an odd sensation to have Haytham come inside of him. Haytham’s breath hitched, and hotness spilled over Ratonhnhaké:ton’s ass and lower back. The young man shuddered, glancing back at the other with glazed over, dark eyes – exhausted and pleasured.

Haytham was panting still; towering above him with flushed cheeks and messy hair. Ratonhnhaké:ton lazily motioned for the other to join him, and after a moment of hesitation, the older man shifted next to the other; pulling the young man into his arms.

They remained close like that; sticky from sweat and come, both content and satisfied. They didn’t speak, and Ratonhnhaké:ton almost drifted off to sleep. He was blissfully exhausted – and tired still from not having slept well over the past few days. Sharing this intimacy and warmth felt incredible – and he felt safe next to the older man. He had missed Haytham's broad frame next to him ever since they had arrived here, and he knew that he wanted this closeness to continue – beyond this night, and perhaps beyond their mission.

Just as the young hunter was about to fall asleep, Haytham stirred and shifted away. Questioningly, Ratonhnhaké:ton turned, and his dark eyes were worried that Haytham did not enjoy their closeness like he did. But the older man’s expression was mild, and Haytham even smiled at him. “Tending the fire. I’m not leaving.”, he muttered as if he had guessed the younger man’s train of thought.

Haytham fed the fire enough for it to last for the rest of the night, then he returned to Ratonhnhaké:ton’s side. His fingers brushed over the young man’s back after he had nestled back next to him – tracing the burn scars with his fingertips. He would have had amply opportunity to see them when they had become one the second time. Quietly, he asked, “Connor… you – your family, you were there when it happened, weren’t you?”

The young man shuddered; shifting a little into the older man’s arms and hiding his face in the crook of the other’s neck. Haytham allowed it and wrapped an arm around his broad frame. Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head a little. “I don’t want to talk about that day now.” And yet, it seemed easier to bear the thought of that day like this, in Haytham’s arms. But he had liked their embrace very much and did not want to… _darken_ it with the memory of what had happened so many years ago.

Haytham brushed through his hair soothingly, and Ratonhnahké:ton relaxed. Perhaps he would tell Haytham the full story one day; and perhaps, then, the older man would share why he was so interested in it – and why he cared to stop the Russian sea otter pelt traders, if not for his own profit.

“One question, if you allow me.”, Haytham muttered, and the young man gave a sound of reluctant agreement.

“Your father – was he not a hunter of the village? Why did he not protect you and your mother? Or… or did she die after it happened?” There seemed bitterness in the other’s voice, and Ratonhnhaké:ton blinked a little as he tried to figure out why the other cared. He had told Haytham that his mother was dead – but how did the Englishman make this particular connection to the Agalikmiut? Because doubtlessly, this was what Haytham was talking about.

It took the young man a moment to find the right words to reply; consciously ignoring the fact that it had not been just _one_ question, but rather three. “He’s… he wasn’t there that day. He’s not a hunter; not like… the ones in our village. I was too young to hear everything, but…” Ratonhnhaké:ton sighed; pressing his face against Haytham’s neck and breathing in the other’s soothing scent. “He’s not like you and me.”, he muttered quietly. “He’s a spirit; he lives in the moon. It was cloudy then, and he couldn’t protect us.”

He could feel Haytham stiffen, and reckoned the Englishman was confused or doubtful about this information. “You said… you have his approval.”, Haytham said, and his voice sounded oddly strained. “You said you see him sometimes.”

Ratonhnhaké:ton gave a soft hum; amused and thoughtful. “It’s true. Maybe you don’t believe it, but it is. My father is up there, where only shamans can go. He is a _tuunraq._ When I was just a boy, they told me he was watching over me, and it’s true. I wasn’t lying when I said we’re not close…” He nestled himself closer to the other before he continued. “Sometimes I can feel his presence. That night after the blizzard… I could feel his gaze. He allowed me to accompany you… He was right. I’m glad I stayed…”

He didn’t see Haytham pale. Instead, he relaxed, and allowed himself to fall asleep in his father’s arms.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you so much for reading!  
> I hope you enjoyed this brief moment of them finding to each other, though... Haytham might have just understood the magnitude of their entanglement. In the next chapter, you'll find out what he'll do about that, and soon, the title-giving voyage to the moon shall take place.  
> Thank you again for every kudos and comment; it really means so much. <3  
> I hope you are all well.


	10. Qalmelria

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope you're all doing well. Thanks for reading!
> 
> The title of this chapter describes "someone who panics". I'll leave it up to you to decide who this refers to...!

Ratonhnhaké:ton awoke from a dreamless night by himself. The room was still warm, and sunlight entered the room through the thin fabric covering the small windows. He blinked; stretching and taking in the morning. He wondered where Haytham was – perhaps he was just briefly stepping outside to relieve himself or check on the dogs.

The young man shifted; wrapping himself in the blanket a little tighter. It was rather cold in the room – the fire had died down, and Ratonhnhaké:ton wondered why the older man hadn’t put on some fresh logs before he had left. But maybe Haytham had just gone outside and would be back in a moment.

His hips were slightly sore, but the young hunter welcomed this reminder of how he had spent his night. He had no regrets – he had felt noticed and desired, and the closeness had been exhilarating. It was almost less about the _physical_ intimacy he had allowed, and more about the decision to place his trust and loyalty into Haytham’s hands. He hummed; enjoying the laziness of staying in the rather comfortable bed for a while longer – certainly, this was the nicest morning he had had in a long time. If only Haytham would return soon...

How would their journey continue; with their relationship having developed like this? Ratonhnhaké:ton brushed his fingers along his neck, where Haytham had bit him. The older man seemed to have enjoyed himself just as much as the young hunter had, and Ratonhnhaké:ton let himself think about the ways they could enjoy each other’s closeness next time. Would Haytham enjoy it if the younger man returned the favour and...? Could he teach Ratonhnhaké:ton how to pleasure one another with one’s mouth? It all seemed like wonderful ways to show each other affection; to show the desire and want Ratonhnhaké:ton had expressed and asked for.

After a while, Ratonhnhaké:ton left the bed. It was getting too cold, and he was starting to wonder where Haytham was. The Englishman’s things were just the same as on the previous evening, so it seemed unlikely that he had wandered far or started to ready the sleds without him. Had the older man gotten into trouble? Concern was welling up inside of the young man, and he reckoned he better went out to look for Haytham.

Ratonhnhaké:ton started to get dressed – putting on his pants first and smiling to himself when he moved his hips and could feel the soreness that reminded him of their shared night. His dark hair was spilling over his shoulders still, and he started to braid it when he noticed the bottle of oil next to the bed. A soft blush spread across his cheeks, and he picked it up. He opened it briefly to get a whiff of that scent – wondering what it really was. It smelled… like a flower perhaps, or a berry; a hint of sweetness… His smile broadened. Perhaps it would be best to return it to the bag where it belonged, though… he hoped they would use it again before long.

He grabbed Haytham’s small pouch and as he returned the bottle of oil, a subtle shimmer caught his eye. Before he had given it much thought, he had taken out the object that had almost seemed to glow. Ratonhnhaké:ton put the pouch on the table and stepped closer to the window to be able to examine the flat, round disk better. It seemed to be a charm of some sorts, and there was a string wound around it as if to wear it around one’s neck, but… Ratonhnhaké:ton had an odd feeling just holding it; as if there was some sort of… connection between himself and the object. As he concentrated on the fine lines inscribed on it, his surroundings seemed to briefly flicker – almost as if turning into a different room. Startled, he glanced up – but his surroundings were just the same. For a moment, he just stood there; the charm in his hands; his heart galloping. What was this, and what did Haytham want with it?

A sound at the door disrupted his racing thoughts, and he suddenly remembered Haytham’s admonishment not to go through his things while he was gone. Hastily, Ratonhnhaké:ton put the charm away; not wanting to get caught holding it. He would put it back later, in an unobserved moment.

He approached the door in the firm belief that it was Haytham coming back from wherever it was he had rushed off to – but as no one entered and the rustling continued, Ratonhnhaké:ton opened the door himself. There wasn't just the Englishman in front of it. Haytham was being half-carried by none other than the young trapper, Samuel, whose eyes widened as he saw Ratonhnhaké:ton. The young hunter was still just wearing his pants; his chest bare, his dark hair mostly undone, and the mark on his neck rather visible.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s attention, in turn, was focused on Haytham; briefly worried that the other had gotten hurt; slumped over as he was; his shirt messy and mostly undone; his hair loose and unkempt. “What happened?”, Ratonhnhaké:ton growled; somehow assuming Samuel had something to do with Haytham’s state.

The young trapper seemed taken aback by Ratonhnhaké:ton’s appearance and sole presence in Haytham's lodgings; clearly unsure what to do, and whether or not he should even reply. He glanced at Haytham, whose arm he had flung around his shoulders. “He’s- he’s just drunk.”, Samuel said eventually; his voice irritated. “I was just… bringing him back here for- for his own good.”, he added with a mumble; making a point of not looking at Ratonhnhaké:ton. He moved forward a little, and heaved Haytham closer to the young hunter, who took over.

“Well, then, piss off.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton growled under his breath; not entirely sure the young trapper’s motives had been entirely _pure._ Haytham seemed to be quite… out of it. It felt odd to manhandle the Englishman for once – he hadn’t seen the older man in such a pitiful state before. Even after he had fallen into the freezing water, Haytham had been proud and tall, not… like this. The young man couldn't quite imagine that this was a sort of regular occurrence - Haytham truly hadn't seemed like that.

Ratonhnhaké:ton managed to close the door behind them while he heaved Haytham inside – getting the older man to a chair. Haytham mumbled something as Ratonhnhaké:ton put him down, and the young man was glad the other seemed at least somewhat coming to again.

The young hunter went outside and retrieved some water from the nearby well; trying to quiet down the worry. Why had Haytham gone drinking this early? If this was related to getting some sort of information, it seemed rather… _inefficient._ When had he started, if he was already _this_ drunk? Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to shake off the uneasy feeling clawing at his insides. This wasn’t related to last night – to them. Right?

When he returned to Haytham’s lodgings, he found the other’s eyes resting on him. But they were dull and clouded; an odd sight.

The young hunter hesitantly stepped closer; offering the pouch of water to Haytham, who shook his head.

“…a… mistake…”, the older man mumbled; averting his gaze.

Ratonhnhaké:ton put the pouch away; a frown appearing on his face. “What?”

“Last night… was a mistake.”, Haytham said more clearly; trying to straighten up; his gaze only briefly flickering up to meet the younger man’s stare.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart seemed to plunge down; falling freely and forgetting how to beat as it fell. “What?”, he repeated numbly; his voice breaking.

“I was drunk. I didn’t realize it was… _you._ I thought I was with Samuel still.”, Haytham mumbled; staring at his hands in his lap. “I never wanted… never wanted you. Not you.”

It made no sense. Ratonhnhaké:ton tried to find his voice. He shook his head; his heart falling still. Shakily, he muttered, “But you said –“

“I lied.”, Haytham interrupted him, and his voice sounded strained. “I lied. I was drunk. I’m not… I never looked at you that way. You’re… I never wanted you.”

 _It made no sense._ Haytham’s muttered, jumbled, repetitive words didn’t match the clarity he had displayed during last night – Ratonhnhaké:ton couldn’t believe that he had been drunk then. They had talked about the young man's family specifically - Haytham had seen him; had desired him. _Right?_ “You’re… you don’t know what you’re saying. You’re drunk _now_ – you weren’t last night.”, the young man brought out, and desperately clung to these words to ring true in his own ears. He was hugging himself tightly; his dark eyes fixed upon the older man anxiously.

Haytham’s gaze wandered upwards and as their eyes met, Ratonhnhaké:ton’s heart broke at last.

“I don’t want you.”, Haytham said, and his voice sounded firmer. His gaze was steady, though sad. His expression stony and determined. “I don’t want you like that, Connor. I _never_ did. I’m sorry.”

Each sentence seemed like a physical object hurled at Ratonhnhaké:ton; causing a pain to well up in his chest so strong that he felt like he couldn’t breathe anymore. He had let the other inside of him – physically, yes, but… more importantly, he had put his trust and affection in someone else’s hands for the first time, and just hours later, Haytham threw it away carelessly; as if it meant nothing. But it had meant everything.

Barely noticing anything around him anymore, Ratonhnhaké:ton grabbed his parka and boots; his knees were weak and he felt nauseous and dizzy – his thoughts whirling around in his head aimlessly; his heart numb. How could he have been so foolish? These _kass’at_ were all the same. They were liars, they didn’t care. Haytham was no different. Who knew about what else he had lied?

“Connor, _wait…”_

Ratonhnhaké:ton heard the other’s words, but it was too painful to turn around. Instead, he managed to get the door open and throw himself out into the cold morning, as if he had escaped a burning house for the second time in his life. He tried to breathe; maybe out here, he could _breathe_ again…

He didn’t remember putting his parka or his boots on; he didn’t remember walking back to his sled, but he found himself there some unknown time later; shakily feeding the dogs and preparing to leave. He didn’t know where to go, and what to do – it would be months before the ice broke up, and the spring seal hunt began. He would have to find a place to stay for the rest of winter; a place where he could make himself useful and earn his keep of provisions. All he knew was that he needed to get away. Run from this pain and breathe freely again.

“Qimugtaq.”, a soft voice sounded. Ratonhnhaké:ton turned around to find the older Yup’ik hunter Allirkar standing at the entrance of the dog shed. “I came to say my goodbyes, but it appears you are leaving, too?”, the older man said gently.

Ratonhnhaké:ton wanted to reply, but his voice didn’t comply for a long moment. He stared at the other and tried not to cry. It was as if something muffled all sounds deep in his throat, and he had to take a few shallow, hasty breaths before he could speak. “Let me come with you. Let me help.”, he brought out breathlessly. It was an impulsive request; a desperate wish to find some purpose. Maybe this was what his father had in mind for him all along? To meet up with Allirkar and accompany him to his sister’s village; to help their people – Haytham could deal with those traders himself; or recruit someone else.

An hour later, Ratonhnhaké:ton and Allirkar left the outpost. Snow was falling lightly, but the weather was mild enough to allow them to travel across the icy landscape and further inland. Ratonhnhaké:ton led his sled behind the older hunter; tears stinging in his eyes still. He had never expected to be able to feel this pain just because of someone else’s words - because of someone's rejection. But he understood now how much power someone could have over you if you let them into yourself. He searched in his pockets for the bear figurine he had carved the other day; feeling like he should leave it behind, like he was leaving Haytham behind. The bear had always strangely reminded him of the Englishman. Instead, his fingers closed around a round-ish disk he had never put back.

* * *

**2 months later**

Ratonhnhaké:ton knew that he was dying.

He slipped in and out of consciousness; nestled onto his sled as it rushed across the tundra. He was trusting – _hoping_ – that the dogs would find their way back to the outpost; driven by hunger and instinct. Blood had soaked through his parka again, but he was too weak to clutch his side and try to staunch the bleeding this time. Instead, he held onto Haytham’s charm – perhaps wishing he could have returned the odd disk to its rightful owner.

The wound in his side was burning. His insides were burning – his bones were burning. Maybe he had gotten sick after all – or maybe it was just the wound killing him. When had he eaten last? He had emptied that pouch of water long ago… He was so thirsty now, and everything was on fire. Every now and then, his eyes fluttered open and he stared up into the sky above him. Sweat stung in his eyes, and he felt hot and cold at the same time. He wished to see his father one last time, but it was cloudy, and even as darkness fell, there was no moon. How long had he been travelling? How long had the dogs run by themselves? And when would they stop to turn on each other in their despair; their hunger and thirst? Ratonhnhaké:ton closed his eyes.

A glimpse of… white. Then darkness again. Faint shouts... Ratonhnhaké:ton tried hard to listen to them. Was the sled still moving, or was it just him; spinning?

“- he dead?”

Muffled voices coming closer… He caught bits of their words, but it became harder and harder to focus on their voices; harder to surface back from the darkness.

“- blood?”

“Shit. I'm calling –”

“- need an ambulance –”

“I think he's dying –”

Rustling. The young man tried to blink but his eyes were too heavy. Then, silence fell. Was that snow, melting on his face? Or was he crying? Slowly, he slipped back into darkness. But no, there was a distant glimpse of white… Odd, distorted sounds echoed in his head; ringing in his ears. He was moving again. Further towards… a glimpse of white.

_“Connor.”_

A sound escaped Ratonhnhaké:ton’s throat. That familiar voice… He wished he had enough strength to open his eyes to see the other’s face one last time. He sobbed and pain shot through him as he moved. Haytham. _Haytham…_

“Connor. Are you awake?"

He blinked, and the darkness slowly faded. Whiteness surrounded him. There was only one place that could look like this… One place he had always longed to reach.

 _“F-father?”,_ he asked breathlessly. _  
_

“I'm here.”

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> I hope to update the next chapter soon - shedding a bit more light on where Connor is, and how he has gotten injured in the first place. 
> 
> Thank you for staying with the story! As always, thank you so much for your kudos and comments; they always make my day.


	11. Iraluq

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> The title of this chapter simply means 'Moon'. Connor has (finally) found his way to what he believes is the moon.
> 
> I hope you are all well, and find some distraction in the new chapter. The final chapter should be posted within this month, and I hope you will enjoy the conclusion to this story. Depending on the length, I might split it in two.

Ratonhnhaké:ton blinked. His eyes needed a while to get used to the oddly bright surroundings – a strangely square room; reminding him of the square buildings of the outposts. But this did not seem timber-built; all surfaces were smooth and white. Only a few strange artefacts were of darker colours, but the young hunter did not know what they were for. Some small lights were flickering within the room in different colours, but Ratonhnhaké:ton could not see any flames. A window-like square shape was to his right – it was obscured by a white sort of cloth, though, and only diffuse light entered through it.

He glanced down on himself and tried to move a little – he was lying in a strange sort of bed; white, too, and cords – not of grass but some material that looked like glass but was lighter and more flexible – were attached to his hands. Gasping softly, he reached to take them away – but a hand stopped him.

Ratonhnhaké:ton’s gaze slowly trailed upwards from the hand placed on his’. His heart was beating heavily in his chest – he had waited for this moment so long –

Haytham’s bright eyes locked with his own.

The young man stared at Haytham; his heart missing a beat and his stomach fluttering a little. For two months, he had yearned to see Haytham again; had dreamed and… and fantasized, even. Had regretted his impulsive flight from the outpost – had thought that Haytham had _lied_ for some unknown reason about not wanting him because that night... he had addressed him by name, and guided their lovemaking with utmost patience and attentiveness. Ratonhnhaké:ton had wanted to return and find out why Haytham had lied, but the situation at the village had slowly escalated while Ratonhnhaké:ton had tried his very best to help to put an end to the death ravaging old and young…

He shuddered and held the other's gaze. Haytham looked… _changed._ His hair was shorter, and his face… looked more youthful, in a way. His clothing was odd, not just in a way he had seen it on other _kass’at._ It was a white shirt and dark pants, but unusually cut and both clinging to his body indecently.

“Father?”, Ratonhnhaké:ton whispered with hesitation and doubt. Was he seeing Haytham here in the spirit realm because he had… missed the other so terribly? Had regretted his flight so deeply? Why was his father, the _tuunraq,_ not revealing his true self? “Why are you looking like… like _him?”_

The other seemed confused by his question; gently taking Ratonhnhaké:ton’s hand in both of his own. “Like who?”

“Haytham.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton brought out hoarsely; fighting the rush of emotions threatening to overwhelm him; saying the other’s name for the first time ever since… they had parted ways. Or… maybe he had said it while he was dying; whispering it desperately.

The other furrowed his brows; brushing his fingers over the young man’s hand. “It’s me.”, he muttered. “Do you not remember?”

“I…”, Ratonhnhaké:ton started; his gaze dropping down to his father’s fingers enveloping his hand trapped by the strange cords. Understanding trickled through him, and the breath caught in his throat. “You are… you’re my father? Since when… did you know?”

Haytham’s expression seemed concerned; and he shifted a bit closer; holding the young man’s hand gently. “Yes, I’m your father. I know since you told me. Do you… do you not remember me?”, he asked, and Ratonhnhaké:ton believed to hear a slight tremble to the older man’s voice.

The young hunter shook his head but said, “I… Of course I remember you. I…” He fell silent. _Since you told me…_ Hotness and coldness waved through him as he understood. Haytham had asked about his father – he had asked why he hadn’t protected his mother. He understood now why Haytham had cared. He had cared because he had _known_ Ratonhnhaké:ton’s mother. He had been with her; he… had understood when Ratonhnhaké:ton had spoken about just who his father was. After a brief moment, the young man added quietly, “I remember telling you. I remember the night before I ran away.”

Haytham’s gaze dropped down to his hand holding onto his son’s; a stony expression on his features.

“I remember that you rejected me.”, Connor mumbled; treacherous tears wanting to well up. “Is it… was it because… because we are…?”

Haytham bowed his head a little. “It was for the best, Connor. So we can continue with what we have. Things are… complicated as they are.”, he muttered quietly; his gaze still fixed upon their hands.

“So you didn’t know when we slept with each other?”, Ratonhnhaké:ton asked clumsily. There was hurt in his voice; though he started to understand the older man’s actions better now – it didn’t help the bitterness and regret in his heart. He wasn’t sure if he was dying and this was his last journey before he would pass – and he couldn’t help but wish he had acted differently two months ago.

Haytham’s head jerked up and he stared at the young man in apparent horror. “We didn’t – I _never_ –“ He paled; his grip on the young man’s hand tightening subconsciously. His eyes widened as he stared at his son. “The… the Christmas party – that was… that was _you,_ wasn’t it?”, Haytham croaked out; his bright eyes wide with understanding. “I… I thought… I didn’t know…”

Ratonhnhaké:ton didn’t understand what exactly the other was referring to, but he nodded hesitantly. They had slept with each other; they had enjoyed that particular intimacy _and_ – Ratonhnhaké:ton squeezed the other’s hand back; watching as Haytham’s gaze dropped back down. And he had enjoyed it. He had thought back to that feeling of closeness and desire; of affection and attention many times during the dark hours as he tried to find sleep amongst the horrors of people dying.

The young hunter couldn’t help tears escaping his eyes. He was exhausted and a bit dizzy still; his side hurting, though not as terribly as before. “It doesn’t change how I feel about you.”, he said almost inaudibly, but he could tell that Haytham had heard him.

The older man slowly looked up; meeting his son’s gaze. Haytham’s ocean eyes were bright as ever, and Connor could see the care and concern in them in a rare glimpse of the other’s emotional turmoil.

Before Ratonhnhaké:ton could say any more – could voice those delicate things on the tip of his tongue, the door opened, and a woman clad in white entered. She carried a thin board unfamiliar to Ratonhnhaké:ton in its purpose.

She nodded towards them and came closer. “Mr Kenway Junior, it is good to see you up. The doctor will be making his rounds in a bit, but for now, you just need to rest. Is there anything I can do?”

The last question seemed to be directed at Haytham rather than the young man, and Ratonhnhaké:ton glanced at his father, who responded, “I believe we have everything we need. We’ll call for assistance if we need to.”

She nodded again, and started to write on the board she had brought. “I’ll just briefly check his levels.” She proceeded to observe some of the strange collection of lights, and Ratonhnhaké:ton watched her with curiosity and a hint of mistrust.

“She’s one of my people, don’t worry.”, Haytham muttered soothingly, and Ratonhnhaké:ton relaxed. Did Haytham mean that she was a _tuunraq,_ too?

The older man’s expression changed a little, and he straightened. “Connor – we need to talk how you got here.” His eyes briefly flickered over to the woman, who finished her strange chores, and then quietly left the room. Only when she had closed the door behind her, Haytham continued talking. “Where were you? You were… you were gone for two months, and then…” He sighed. “If these hikers hadn’t found you, I’m not sure…” He fell silent. “The doctors said your wound must have remained untreated for days. The inflammation was worse than the puncture itself. Connor, what did you get yourself into? Who stabbed you? If it was someone from my ranks, I promise I will -”

Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head a little in confusion. He didn’t quite understand what his father was talking about, but knew what the other wanted to know. “It’s… it’s a long story, father.”

Haytham gave a nod for him to continue talking. "I will do what I can to get the person responsible, Connor."

The young hunter shook his head; a gloominess overcoming him. “It’s… it’s too late for that. But... I'll start when I left the outpost…”

“The airport... the airport hotel?”

Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head; unfamiliar with those words. “The outpost we had stayed at. I left with Allirkar –“

“Who?”

“The hunter I was talking to when you… when we met in the back room. The room you had brought me to when you met with Samuel first.”

Haytham’s expression was blank and confused. “It was when you said I needed to tell you what I want.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton prompted. Did Haytham, his father, not remember what he had done on earth while he was on the moon? But… Ratonhnhaké:ton shook his head. He wasn’t sure why it was that the other didn’t remember. But Haytham had asked, and so he would tell him. 

“I left with Allirkar.”, Ratonhnhaké:ton started again; taking a deep breath. “He was an old acquaintance. He was on his way to his sister’s village. People had gotten sick there, and he wanted to help his family. After your rejection, I… I ran into him, and I urged him to let me help. I needed to get away; I felt… ashamed for having opened up to you, just to be… rejected.” He gestured for Haytham not to interrupt him as the older man seemed about to.

“On the way to the village, I realized I still had your pendant – I had… I had picked it up by chance, and wanted to return it when you came back, but… I fled without thinking of it. I was close to turning back when I found it, but my heart and my head hurt with the notion. I pressed on; following at Allirkar's heels.” He shook his head; glancing from his father down to his hand still resting in the other's. He felt calmer with that gentle touch grounding him; despite the unfamiliar surroundings, he could rely on that touch - on that attentive gaze, even though Haytham seemed oddly confused by his words.

“It took us a few days to reach the village. We quickly realized that many people were sick, and several children had died. We found Allirkar’s family in great despair. Their youngest had died, and his sister was… distraught. We stayed at the men's house. We learned that many people were coughing and many had fever and a strange skin condition; itching and with odd spots. Some had red eyes, and one child had gone blind.” Ratonhnhaké:ton shivered. “I promised to help, even though I was – I was afraid. I didn’t want to become sick. I had heard of entire villages dying, and I was… I was starting to regret that I had left you. I didn’t want to leave your mission, and I – I didn’t want to leave you, either. Some of the things you said did not make sense – your rejection after the night we had spent together…” He briefly closed his eyes; concentrating on the gentle circles Haytham had started to draw in the palm of his hand.

“But I understand now. I wish I had known then. I wish you had trusted me enough to tell me.” He opened his eyes and found his father’s bright stare resting on him – an odd look in his ocean eyes. Ratonhnhaké:ton hesitated briefly, but then continued to speak. “The situation became worse. More people got sick, and all day and night you could hear the coughing, weeping, and moaning of the dying. The village elders and the babies were the first to die. The stories that were lost…” He stopped, his eyes unfocusing a little as he recalled the pain of the village at losing so much of themselves. “And then… there were these strange moments, when I could see flickers of different… of things and people that weren’t there. I saw a golden light radiating from your pendant, and more. People started to whisper about me.”

He took a deep breath; jerking slightly when his side stung at the movement. “People started to panic. Allirkar and I did what we could. We procured whatever the shaman asked for to heal people. Then Allirkar’s sister died, and he got sick, too. He had a terrible fever, and couldn’t accompany me anymore. I went out alone from then on until… until the shaman fell down ill as well. There were few healthy people left; some had fled from the village, but most had stayed to care for their loved ones. I did what I could to fulfil the shaman’s wishes, but… it seemed hopeless. One day…”

Haytham's touch was comforting still, and Ratonhnhaké:ton squeezed the other's hand gently before he carried on with his story. “One day the shaman’s son came with me to hunt. He was a… a powerful man in the village, and was meant to succeed his father. I had gotten to know the land around the village well through my journeys for the shaman, but this young man told me about a cave, where we might find some foxes or hares. It took us hours to get further up the mountain to the cave, and…”

His mouth felt dry after speaking so much, and he coughed softly. Before he could ask for water, Haytham held a very clear and thin looking glass with water out to him. Shakily, Ratonhnhaké:ton reached out, and with his father’s help, he managed to take a few sips. “Thank you, father.”, he muttered, briefly glancing at the other as Haytham put away the glass again.

Ratonhnhaké:ton collected his thoughts before he continued; glad that Haytham wasn't interrupting him anymore. “There were no animals in the cave. But my… your pendant; it started to glow, softly at first, but…” He gritted his teeth; his eyes dropping down to look at the white blanket he was covered with. “The shaman’s son noticed, too. He was upset – accusing me of wanting to take his spot when his father died. He had heard the whispers about my… my abilities, and that I was not sick even though I had comforted the dying. I was an outsider, and he… he couldn’t bear the thought that I was to become the shaman instead of him. I tried to tell him that I was… I was wanting to return to the outpost but had decided to stay because I wasn’t sick, and people needed my help…”

He motioned for Haytham to help him drink a bit more, and after he had done so, he continued. “He attacked me. I didn’t want to fight him. I tried… to defend myself without hurting him, but he was furious. It all went too fast. He came at me with a knife, and…” He shuddered. “I was startled by the things he said, and the way the pendant’s glow was intensifying – golden threads starting to unravel from it… I think in any other situation I could have taken him easily, but in that moment… I only felt a sharp pain; staggering backwards as I pulled the knife from my side and threw it aside… He pressed me against the cave wall; hands around my neck… I started to panic.” He had felt the blood soak his parka; a sharp pain radiating from his side. “I did the only thing I could think of before he would choke me – I used the blade you gave me; the hidden blade you gifted me after our first meeting. I injured his neck, and as he stumbled backwards – I…”

A shudder ran through the young man. He couldn’t forget the flicker of an image he had seen in that very moment. “I saw _you._ For a moment, I saw you. You were… you were clutching your bloody neck, where I had stabbed you – stumbling backwards. You were wearing different clothes, but it was you…” Blinking the tears from his eyes, Ratonhnhaké:ton paused. He had been upset and horrified; afraid that he had hurt the one person he missed most; stumbling forwards in an attempt to reach the Englishman. “When I moved – you were gone. Your image was gone again. It was the shaman’s son; cursing me as he took his last breaths…”

For a moment, Ratonhnhaké:ton fell silent again; unsure if Haytham had really followed his explanation as to how he had gotten injured. “I don’t remember how I got back to the village. I knew I wouldn’t be… I knew I had to leave. The shaman was dying, and I had killed his son. I readied my sled and bandaged my wound as much as I could. I… I said my goodbyes to Allirkar, but I’m not sure he… he was conscious.” After he had taken another sip of water with Haytham’s help, Ratonhnhaké:ton concluded his story. “I tried to return to the outpost, but my wound was worse than I feared and I… I didn’t know the way – I had travelled it once, with Allirkar, two months ago. I used all my strength, my food and water, and at some point… I just crouched down on the sled; trusting the dogs to find their way back as hunger and thirst spurred them on. I could feel how the blood soaked through my parka again… everything hurt. I was so thirsty… I missed you. I clutched your talisman, and maybe it… led me here. Or did I reach the outpost? Am I dying, father?”

Their eyes locked, and Ratonhnhaké:ton could feel tears welling up; trying his best not to cry in front of his father. “Am I dying?”, he repeated in a whisper.

Only now, Haytham seemed to react and try to find the right words to say; speechless after the young man’s report on what had happened. The older man shook his head. “You’re not dying, Connor.”, he muttered; brushing over the young man’s hand. “You’ll be fine. You just need rest. The inflammation has been treated, and the wound is healing.” He hesitated, then, with furrowed brows, he added quietly, “You’re vaccinated against measles, Connor. I think that’s why you didn’t get sick – but – is that really your name – Connor?”

A hint of confusion tugged at the young man’s insides; then he realized he had never told Haytham his true name. He shook his head slowly. “It is the name I use around _kass’at_. My mother named me Ratonhnhaké:ton. That is my name.” He caught the other’s glance, and was surprised to see the older man’s emotions barely hidden in them. His heart missed a beat as so often when he met the other’s stare – entirely captivated by Haytham’s bright ocean eyes.

Slowly, the older man reached out to him; brushing his knuckles against Ratonhnhaké:ton’s cheek. The soft touch stirred emotions within the younger hunter; a yearning that he had somewhat managed to push down in the past two months. “I w-wish I had known – I wish I could have... stayed with you.”, the young man blurted out; his heart heavy.

“I’ve never wanted something more – even if it’s not right. Your rejection…” He fell silent for a moment; thinking back to the moment he had fled. _Connor, wait –_ Haytham’s last words to him had echoed inside of him for two months. If only he had turned around… Would Haytham have told him the truth then? He let himself get lost in the other’s bright stare; in those ocean eyes… Even though he was far from the ocean now, he felt the breeze and tasted the salt.

“I couldn’t forget your embrace, Haytham…”, he mumbled; his heart beating in his throat. He had longed to say these words; for two months, he had longed to voice these things he had realized so soon after he had left the outpost. The knowledge that Haytham, somehow, was his father, didn’t change the intense feelings Ratonhnhaké:ton held for him. He had needed to travel to this place to find out, and after so many years, his wish had finally come true. “I ran away, but whenever I turned back, I longed to see you just a step behind me. Every time I took another step away from you, I could feel my longing pulling me back more. I’ve – I’ve always…"

He blinked; tears stinging in his eyes. "I’ve loved you since we met."; he whispered hoarsely. "I love you.” It felt gut-wrenching to speak it out loud – but up here… Connor felt like he could. Maybe this was his last journey - or his last time with Haytham, and he wanted to say everything he had regretted not saying in the past weeks.

Haytham’s gaze was intense, and the younger man believed to see yearning in it, too. The Englishman shifted closer; his hand still resting on his son’s cheek. For a brief moment, he hesitated – then he placed his lips onto Connor’s.

The young man closed his eyes; ignoring some tears escaping his lashes as he kissed his father; joy, longing and affection pulsing through him as he felt darkness descending upon him again. His eyes fluttered open, but the darkness was still there. He could hear a distant voice.

_“Qimugtaq?”_

But all Ratonhnhaké:ton concentrated on was the lingering feeling of Haytham’s lips on his own. He knew he had fallen back down from his voyage to the moon. Would he find Haytham back down here on earth?

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Thank you for reading!!  
> Kudos and comments mean a lot to me, so thank you very much for leaving them! 
> 
> I'd also like to say that there is a mini fic that I will post sometime soon, which is a sort of spin-off from this chapter. It is all about the events Haytham speaks of in this chapter - the airport hotel, the Christmas party, and modern!Connor being missing for two months... I hope you'll consider giving it a read when it comes out!
> 
> Stay safe!


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